Potterhouse
by TheNewJeniferChurch
Summary: A thieving Dumbledore, a new teacher, and his own familial inheritance will make for an exciting and dangerous fifth year for Harry James Potter. There're a blue Police box and a red Phone box in the corridor outside Myrtle's bathroom.
1. Choices

**Potterhouse**

 _Note: Please don't count on any regular updating from me. Such is notoriously problematic for me. I won't give up, but I have a life, and it often gets in the way._

 _I don't own these players, and I'm making no money from their performance. That said, please enjoy this effort. It's somewhat Doctor-lite at the moment, focusing mostly on Harry's predicament, but I'm digging out a niche for the Time Lord to play in later._

 **Chapter 1: Choices**

 _Godric's Hollow, England, 1026 AD. . ._

On the outskirts of Godric's Hollow was a stone building that was said to be haunted. For one thing, no one could actually remember it being built. For another, there would often be strange lights coming from it, and once in a while, strange sounds as well. But none of that was stranger than the man who owned the building, a man known only as the Potter. Now, the man made a living as a potter, and his work was really quite exquisite. He could make even the most utilitarian of earthen vessels a truly beautiful piece, and the ones he considered art were the most sought-after in all England. No one knew where he'd studied, and no one knew his name or origin, but because of his work, no one wanted to question him, lest he take that work and leave.

He dressed strangely, spoke strangely, and allowed his wife a great deal of latitude more than most men, though she did not abuse the privilege. People became used to the Potter, for all his eccentricities.

Then one day, the strange building was joined by a strange blue box.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

"Forget it, Doctor. I am an artist, not a fighter." The Potter paced around his small cottage, the real stone building he kept his TARDIS next to.

"And I respect that. Do you think I want to be fighting not only the Daleks but our own people, as well? I'm trying to find a way to stop them, not drag you into this war. And don't call me Doctor. Right now, I don't deserve that title."

"Well what do you want me to call you? 'Hey you?'" The Potter sighed. "I can't leave, Doctor. I-I did something the Time Lords will not forgive me for. If I return to Gallifrey, they'll kill me. Permanently."

The Warrior looked at his old friend, remembering the man who had preceded himself and the Master at the Academy, graduating three years earlier, but who he had considered something of a peer mentor, one of the few people who hadn't looked down on him for his rebellious ways. "What is it? Their ideas of right and wrong rarely match mine, you know."

The Potter chuckled a little at that. "I do know." Then he sobered. "But I'm not sure even you'll countenance this."

"Potter?" came a voice out of the back of the cottage. A woman's voice. And it was followed a moment later by a woman's form, standing in the bedroom doorway. She was fair-skinned, with golden-red hair and fine features, a lovely porcelain doll. That is, if a doll were pregnant. The Warrior stared at her in shock.

"Marie, my love, are you all right?" asked the Potter, standing from his chair and rushing over to his human wife. "Did we wake you?"

"No. I just can't seem to get comfortable." She let her husband settle her in the chair he had just vacated. "Now, who's your friend?"

"My apologies, Marie. This is an old friend of mine from home, the Doctor. He's-"

"Potter," said the other Time Lord warningly.

"Relax, Doctor. She already knows what I am. This is my wife, Marie Potter nee Peverell. Marie, the Doctor is also a Time Lord, and much like myself, he disdains war, but he finds he must fight it anyway, for the good of all."

For a moment, the Warrior stared at his old friend, then said, "I-I'm happy for you, Potter. I must say that I am surprised, but I am hardly one to argue against the course of true love. I've never found it myself, not in nearly nine hundred years, among our kind or any other, but I can see that it suits you." He grinned. "And I can see you've done something else, something I thought impossible for one of our race."

The Potter grinned with pride. "Yes. Rassilon perpetuated that farcical fiction for his own ends. We can have children with any other compatible race. Pythia's magic only affected the women of our race. But she knew Rassilon would never agree to let us bring in half-bred children to fix the problem. He believed in the superiority of the Time Lords too much, and besides which, technology could ensure our survival as a race, so there was no need to allow it."

The Warrior looked at his friend and smiled the first real smile he'd had in over a century. "All right. I won't ask you to come with me, then. You have a family, now. I-" He faltered, hating the war and all it was making him to do. "I have to do something, Potter, something I just know will rend my soul apart. But it is the only course left to me, other than to allow Rassilon to destroy all creation. Somehow, he thinks that's winning. But if it is winning to be the only ones left, then we must lose."

The Potter gave him a horrified look. "Rassilon's Final Sanction?! They're actually going through with that?" Thoughts flitted across his face, then he realized what the only thing that could stop them would be. He swallowed hard, his stomach obviously not agreeing with what his head knew was coming for his people. "H-How will you do it?"

"The Moment. Last weapon of ancient Gallifrey, and so powerful it will wipe them all out in a single moment." He sat down heavily on the plain wooden chair he had been offered earlier in the night.

"Can none be saved?" the Potter whispered.

"I can't let anyone know, can't evacuate the planet. It would tip off Rassilon, and he'd just set the Sanction off early. I have to catch Gallifrey and the Daleks all in one shot, and that has to be strong enough to erase both. If I don't the rest of the universe- _all_ the universes-will cease to be. He'll kill all of creation. And the Daleks would cheerfully steal that technology and do it themselves. There is no alternative but to stop this insanity."

"What of your mother?" He asked because the Doctor's mother was a member of the council, one of the only sane voices on it.

A ghost of future pain slid across his mind. "I know. There's no way to save her or Susan or Braxietel. The Master is dead, and so is Romana. I don't know where the Corsair is, but I doubt he's sitting the war out. If I could save any of them, I would. I can save you, and your child. But you must never try to find Gallifrey. This destruction will put it in a time lock, along with the Daleks, and attempting to enter it will only serve to kill you."

The Potter had tears in his eyes as he asked, "Why must it be you to play our Judas?"

The Warrior shook his head. "Who else could it be, my friend?"

"Then go. _Quod facis fac citius_.*" He nodded, then stood to leave the house, but the Potter turned him around before he let him leave and hugged him, knowing the man would not return to see him when it was done. "I hate this, but I do not hate you for it, and I never will."

"I won't survive, Potter. You will soon be the last of the Time Lords. Raise your child knowing what Gallifrey should have been."

The Potter nodded. "I swear it."

And with that, the Warrior went back to his TARDIS to steal the Moment form the Omega Arsenal and burn Gallifrey and the Daleks together, ending this hell for the rest of the universe at the cost of their home world.

Marie stood by her husband as the blue TARDIS dematerialized. "Where is he going?"

"He is going to kill our home world, and himself." The tears in the Potter's eyes rolled down his cheeks.

Shocked, Marie turned to look him in the eye. "Why?"

"Because if he doesn't, they'll kill all the worlds."

From that moment, she was silent, merely supporting her husband as he mourned his homeland and his friend. _How horrible,_ she thought, _to have to make such a choice._

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

 _969 years later, 31 July, Gringott's Bank of London, vault 687. . ._

Harry Potter's vault was being audited, and the audit required his presence, so they had sent a car around to collect him. If he hadn't, his watchers would have stopped him. Harry knew that Dumbledore had people watching the house. He'd spotted more than one of them over the summer, and he assumed it was because of Voldemort. He'd spotted Mad-Eye Moody a couple of times, as well as a girl whose hair kept changing colors, and several others who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else.

The first inkling he'd had that all was not right with his _protectors_ was an owl he'd gotten from Fred and George Weasley at the beginning of the summer. They'd warned him that his friends were being told not to send him letters, and that they'd overheard Dumbledore saying that he needed Harry angry. Then he'd gotten the letter from Gringott's stating that with his fifteenth birthday he now had full control of all his family's assets and asking if he wished to continue with all the financial activities that were currently being executed by his financial warden. The warden was Dumbledore. And a quick phone call to the bank (goblins not being nearly as backward as the rest of the wizarding world) revealed that Dumbledore was dipping into his money on a regular basis. He'd also filed a request to keep Harry in the dark about his finances, but it was against Gringott's policy to do so.

Harry had been brought to the back of the bank, into one of the offices, and there he'd sat down with two goblins. One was the Master of Accounts, Ironclaw, and the other was the Master of Probatry, Daggermouth. Ironclaw had pulled the statements of account from Harry's vault for the last thirteen years and nine months, and Daggermouth had pulled the bank's copy of his parents' wills. They looked over both together, and what they found made Harry so angry he almost lost control of his magic.

Once a month, every month, including time Harry spent at school, the Dursleys received a payment from his account of four hundred quid, supposedly for his child support. But Harry was forced to be the Dursleys' house elf and to wear Dudley's cast-off clothing. At first, this made him angry with _them_ , but then he realized that the money was not being sent to them, but to a Muggle bank account in the name of Brian Dumble. Perhaps the Dursleys should have cared for him because he was family, but if he had also been the source of a ready cash flow like that, it might have sweetened their attitudes. Dumbledore had stolen that from them, and not knowing, they took it out on him.

Then there were the direct withdrawals. Harry had himself withdrawn a small amount each year to pay for school supplies and a few things for himself, but he'd never taken out this kind of coin. Just as the summer began, the largest such withdrawal, one for ten thousand galleons, had been made in his name. The money went into a "scholarship" fund for Hogwarts. All told, those unauthorized withdrawals totaled nearly a million galleons.

There were a few legitimate business dealings that had been running since before he was born, things his parents and grandparents had started. They were keeping the vault from going under, and included patents for several potions, stocks in the Firebolt Broom Company and Zonko's Novel Enterprises, and outright ownership of Ogden's Distillery in Aberdeen. Dumbledore hadn't been able to get his hands on any of the business dealings or any of the real property, because such transactions would have been noticed. But he'd taken what he could of everything else.

So now, he stood in his vault in Gringott's, and he was going through its non-financial contents; deeds, proprietary recipes, journals, books and magical artifacts. A cloth-covered pole three meters long proved to be a rolled up tapestry, a family tree that was self-updating. An old bronze key glowed a little when he touched it, becoming warm, but the goblins didn't know yet what it went to. The arithmantic equations and notes for the Marauder's Map were priceless, both for their knowledge and their sentimental value. And there was a wizard portrait of a tall man with blue eyes and a medium woman with green eyes, both with red hair, and both wearing clothes that put them in the eleventh century. But Harry realized there were some discrepancies. The man was wearing trainers and bifocals.

Well, it _was_ a wizarding painting, so he asked, "I hope you don't mind my asking, but who are you?"

The painted man grinned. "I am called the Potter, and this is my wife, Marie. I see questions flitting about in that head of yours. So go on! Ask!"

"Your glasses and your shoes are from the present day, but yours and your wife's clothing are from the eleventh century. How did that happen?"

The Potter grinned. "Very observant, lad. It happened because I am a time traveler. See, I'm not from this planet, or this time, and there were some things I was not going to do without just because I wanted to live in a simpler time. I don't actually need the bifocals, but they do help me get the details right in some of my smaller-scale work. As for the trainers, well, you never do know when you might have to run. I much prefer a rubber sole to a boot for that." He looked at Marie. "And I took Marie to a hospital on a different planet in the fifty-first century to have our child. I wasn't risking their health on the medical knowledge of this century."

"You're not from Earth? But that means-" Harry stopped, trying to wrap his head around it. Then an ironic snort erupted from his nose. "I guess the Dursleys were right. I _am_ a freak."

The Potter took offence to that, for both their sakes. "Hey, now, none of that. We are not freaks. We are Time Lords, members of a race that mastered travel through time and space before humans had even thought about standing up to walk. And Marie is human, by the way. You're mostly human, but even as far descended as you are from me, you'll have that little spark of Time Lord that exposure to the Vortex might fan into a flame. Now, every firstborn child of my line has seen this painting, but none were so young as you when they saw it. What has happened? Where is your father? And what is your name, by the way?"

Harry sat down on the stool the goblins had provided. "My name is Harry, and nearly fourteen years ago, a dark wizard named Lord Voldemort killed my parents. He would have killed me, but my mother sacrificed herself while using an old kind of blood magic and the curse that should have killed me was reflected back on him. Now, that didn't kill him, and I'm not sure why, but it did put him out of commission for quite some time. He was living as a shade.

"I was sent to live with my mother's family, but living with them has never been easy. They didn't want me and don't like me. When I turned eleven, I found out I was a wizard, and that my parents had been wizards. I found out they were killed and that I could go to a school for magic. Then I faced Voldemort for the first time. He was possessing my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and living off of unicorn blood, and he tried to steal Nicholas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone from the school. I met and defeated his sixteen-year-old memory in second year. It was being held in a diary, and I stabbed it with a basilisk fang. Then at the end of last school year, just over a month ago, he was able to come back. He's alive again, and he used my blood to do it. He killed a friend who was with me just because he didn't need him for the ritual. Then he forced me to duel him. I wouldn't have survived, but our wands are brothers and wouldn't fight each other."

By this time Harry had tears streaking down his face. The goblins were listening, but he ignored them. He needed to get this out, and even though this Potter was long dead, he was family, real family. "After I got home for the summer, I found out that the Headmaster has been stealing from me ever since my parents were killed. I looked up to him! But he's never seen me as anything other than a source of cash and a weapon!"

For a moment, neither Potter said anything. But eventually, the Time Lord looked at his Marie and said, "Harry, I think that you, more than any child descended from us, both need and deserve the knowledge of the Time Lords. First, though, let's deal with your money problems. Goblins, is the Kanli Statute still on the books?"

Ironclaw and his assistant, Hammerfist, both grinned at him with their sharpened, enameled teeth. "It is."

Harry wiped the tears off his face and said, "What is the Kanli Statute?"

The Potter said, "'Kanli' is a Turkish word meaning 'blooded'. In this instance, it is describing a feud between two families, and the statute is in place to keep blood out of the fight. Instead, if Kanli is invoked, and proven within the bounds of the law, then the wronged party has the right to make the other party bleed financially until they are destitute. If Dumbledore cannot repay what is owed, you will effectively own him until he can, and any money he makes will flow into your coffers until the debt is paid or he is dead. Such a debt can also be passed on to any siblings or children, but not backward to parents."

Harry's face hardened. "Master Ironclaw, has Albus Dumbledore's theft been proven to the requirements of Kanli?"

The goblin nodded. "Though it will have to be made official, there is certainly enough evidence here. It will mean a formal inquiry, and formal charges. Kanli is a civil matter, but criminal charges can result from it, especially given that your parents' wills were violated. You will also have to learn a ritual casting to invoke Kanli, but it is not difficult, and it only requires a drop of blood. _Technically_ it is blood magic, but it was never tarred with the same brush as other blood rituals because of the nature of the offense. This isn't some imagined slight or love quarrel. This is provable and measurable harm. The inquiry will need the full audit of the vault, but it will not have to be redone. It will also require a full audit of Dumbledore's vaults and accounts, including the Muggle one. We'll have to go through the Muggle authorities and get a warrant for his bank records, but that should not be a problem. Gringott's runs a small Muggle banking concern, mostly for cross traffic and business dealings, and we will file the injunctions through that office. And most importantly, the moment the ritual is begun, Dumbledore will no longer have access to any of your money."

"Then I wish to invoke Kanli. I'd also like to make sure that the Dursleys start getting their child support payments, as well as all the back pay they are owed. By my math, that's £66,000."

"It will be done." Ironclaw said a few words to Hammerfist in Gobbledygook and he made several notes on his ever-present clipboard.

"Good," said the Potter. "Now, Kanli proceedings, while quite swift, will take a little time to get organized. I'd like to show you a part of your inheritance that Gringott's was never made aware of, simply because the laws of my own people forbid the technology from going to hands not of our race." The painted alien knelt down so he was eye-level with Harry. "I want you to have my TARDIS. If she's still alive, she'll help you. And if any of our people still live, they might help you, too, though you'll want to be selective about them. I'll help you with that."

"What happened t-to our people?" It felt strange to ask that, strange to have a people to call his own. He'd never been able to call the normal world home-his relatives had seen to that-and the wizarding world was too hot and cold, too willing to believe both the best and the worst of him at the drop of a hat. Would the Time Lords be any different?

The Potter's face was saddened, though, and Harry knew this wasn't going to be good. "There was a war, a terrible war that spanned galaxies and millennia; a Time War. The laws of Time were ignored by both sides, and they were both threatening to tear reality apart in order to be the victors. Our home world, Gallifrey, was beautiful, Harry, but the Time Lord society was not, and they fought an enemy called the Daleks who were just as deadly. One man stood against both sides, against the insanity of the war and the politicians who were directing it. And that man was forced to destroy our world to save the rest of the universe. If anyone survived, it is him."

"Why didn't you survive?"

"Oh, I did, but this was my last regeneration. I'm six thousand years old, and frankly, I'm just glad that I'm ending my life on such a high note. I doubt I'll live another two hundred years, but I've done what no Time Lord has in millions of years-I've made a family, sired a son!

"Now, Harry, there is a small key somewhere in here. If my TARDIS lives, the key will warm up when you touch it."

"Six _thousand_?" It boggled Harry's mind that he might live to see an age like that.

"Yes, but that's part of the Time Lord history you'll be learning later. Go ahead and get that key."

He remembered the key, and went to pick it up. The bronze metal warmed in his hand, and he showed it to the Potter. It glowed with yellow light, but it wasn't the glow of heat. The metal wasn't _that_ hot. But the glow and the warmth seemed to seep into the painting, and the Potter said, "Now here's the very cool thing about this painting, Harry. This wizarding painting was done over the top of a Time Lord painting, a moment in time captured by a stasis cube." He pointed to the little crystal cube with rounded edges that was in among the gems. "Touch the key to the cube. That'll call her through. She'll dematerialize from the moment in the painting and rematerialize somewhere close to you."

Harry got an odd little smile on his face. "What is she?"

"She's my time ship. T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space, a sentient vessel capable of traveling all over time and space, from beginning to end, and anywhere or when in between. And she's your inheritance. She'll treat you right, Harry, and if you choose to activate that sleeping bit of Time Lord in your genes, she'll help you to learn everything you need to become a Time Lord yourself, but the kind of Time Lord that they should have been, one not so arrogant and superior that they think they are above the rest of the universe. It is your choice, and not one to be made lightly, so take advantage of her library first. Oh, and make sure you bring this painting with you. I'll be able to start you learning how to fly her."

So Harry did as he was bidden and laid the TARDIS key on the stasis cube. Light flooded the vault, and he was blinded for a moment. When he could see again, a sound seemed to issue out of the thin air behind the two goblins, out on the ledge where people got out of the carts to get into their vaults. Excited to see this TARDIS, Harry quickly left the vault to see-

A stone pillar, one that blended into the stone around it as if it were a part of the cavern walls. Hammerfist said, "That wasn't there a second ago. Stone pillars don't just appear out of thin air! This must be the vessel, with some kind of illusion disguising it."

Harry went back and grabbed the key, then returned, trying to find a keyhole to match it. There, about three feet from the ground, he found it, a tiny hole that the key would fit into perfectly. He took a deep breath, put the key into the hole, and turned it, almost surprised when it actually worked. The lock clicked open, and the seam of the door appeared. Grinning, Harry pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The inside was so much bigger than the outside, which only surprised him because it was not a magical device, but a technological one. Entering the time ship, he looked around and drank in what he was seeing. It was a huge room that was constructed as six conjoined gothic arches of a red lacquered substance, with flying buttresses on each which supported a second level. In the center, the arches met in a column, which was interrupted by a clear hexagonal tube. Inside the tube were six tubes of golden light which lit the room along with the recessed circular lights in the curved ceiling.

On the column was a hexagonal work station or console, each side with a large monitor, a keyboard, a switch board and a smaller inset monitor. The floors and stairs were polished black stone with veins of gold running throughout. There were five doors leading out of the room, each a gothic arch shape and made from the same red lacquer as the arches and possessed of a brass knob. There was a bench seat that ran in a semicircle around the console that was decorated in crimson with gold buttons, and running around the entire "ground" floor was a safety railing of steel that reflected the red and gold of the rest of the room.

Harry couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound woefully inadequate.

And then there was the hum. A two-fold sound, the hum of the TARDIS was both a low mechanical hum, like a vent or an engine, and a musical whisper of thought in his mind. He remembered that the Potter had said the TARDIS was a living thing, not just a ship. Could she understand him? Hesitantly, he said, "Hello?"

A feeling of amusement and a flicker of the lights was his answer. Oh, yes, she could understand!

A delighted grin spread across his face. "I'm Harry Potter. The other Potter, the one in the painting I mean, he said you could help me. I want to learn about my family, where we came from. I need to decide whether to become, well, a Time Lord."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Kanli proceedings were guaranteed to take at least a week, which Harry used to learn the Rite of Kanli and to attack the first two books that his TARDIS wanted him to read; _The Basics of Time Travel_ and _A Condensed History of Gallifrey_. He had sent a messenger to his relatives' home with instructions to remove all magical items from the house and to give them the paperwork needed for their portion of the Kanli, which was the child support that had been stolen from them. After the week was over, the Potter showed Harry how to pilot the TARDIS enough to get him back to Privet Drive without going through time. It was time for a conversation. But first he'd have to deal with the wizards who were watching the house.

Since he'd gotten his things, Harry got out his invisibility cloak, knowing the only one who would see him would be either Dumbledore himself or Mad-Eye Moody. Hell, Mad-Eye would probably cheer him on. But still, he approached cautiously, trying to spot whoever was watching, intending to slip into the house without alerting them.

He found the girl with the color-changing hair, and the dirty scrounger who was always looking for something to steal, but he also spotted the twins and Remus. Fred and George had already proved themselves very loyal to Harry, and had told him about Dumbledore's machinations, so he approached them first in the darkness. Taking great care not to make any sounds but his whispers, Harry said to them, "I'm here. Don't let anyone know you've seen me."

Fred, at least harry thought it was Fred, said, "Harry are you insane?! Why'd you come back?"

George said, "we thought you ran away!"

He grinned, though they couldn't see him. "Not yet. There's still a few things to be handled first. Will I be able to get into the house without setting something off?"

"No," said Fred. "He's in a towering rage, and we've been ordered to take you to him the second you're seen."

"Apparently, _someone_ invoked the Rite of Kanli against him," said George.

"The bastard has been stealing from me since my parents died. He wanted angry? Well he got it. Now, I need to know, did either Ron or Hermione just go along with Dumbledore, or were they forced?"

"He screens all outgoing mail from their location," said Fred. "We used the public post."

"Can we get them away from him for an afternoon? There are some things they and you need to know, Remus and Sirius too if you think they can be trusted."

"A shopping trip might be arranged. When?" asked George.

"Tomorrow, but where is a better question."

"There's a little cafe we go to sometimes on Halloway Road. It won't be suspicious, but it'll have to be quick."

"Are you staying somewhere safe, Harry?"

"Yeah. This place is tighter than Gringott's. I'm learning quite a bit, as well. I'll fill you all in tomorrow. Thanks, mates."

Harry left the twins and quickly made his way back to the TARDIS. Since he couldn't slip in, he'd put the time ship in the sitting room and ask them in for tea.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

* _Quod facis fac citius_ : That thou doest, do quickly. _John 13:27_

 _This is the first story that I'm reposting from those profiles I lost the passwords to. And there is also more that has been written since I was forced to stop posting. It's not finished, but there is more to enjoy._

 _And a note to a certain "naked" reviewer. If you don't like it just leave. No one's forcing you to read this story with a blow gun to your eye ball._


	2. Conversations and Visitors

**Chapter Two: Conversations and Visitors**

The Dursleys were on edge, and had been for days. Something was going on with the wizards; Harry had left a week ago and hadn't returned, a man had come from a bank about money that they should have been getting from Lily's estate for Harry's care, and strange people had been seen all over the neighborhood. So when the cupboard under the stairs sprouted a new extension, they were angry, but not too surprised.

The door opened a crack, and out of that crack came a little white flag and Harry's voice. "Can we talk?"

"Potter?" asked Vernon.

"Yeah."

"What is going on? Come out of there."

Harry stepped out of the cupboard, looking around for any signs of magic that might indicate an attack. Satisfied that it was safe, Harry emerged into the sitting room and said, "Thanks. You lot deserve to know what's going on. You fancy a cuppa? I'd invite you in, but it's really weird in there, even for my standards."

Vernon looked at Petunia, both disarmed by Harry's manner. "Very well. And you'll tell us about all this nonsense?"

"Yes, sir."

It didn't take long for the kettle to go off, and for once Harry wasn't slighted at the table. He got to eat a couple of biscuits with the tea, which was all anyone else had. "All right. You signed the papers I sent from the bank, but they were just an acknowledgement. What's happening is a bit complicated, but let me get all the way through, and then I'll answer any questions." They nodded, and Harry forged forward. He explained all he had discovered about Dumbledore's theft and his ignoring of the wills, but he left out the part about being part alien.

Vernon and Petunia were as angry as Harry had ever seen them, but for once it was not at him. "So you never should have come here?" said Petunia.

"That's right, and if I can make it happen, you won't have to take me back. But you need to know the consequences of that, as well. Whatever else Dumbledore did, he did want me safe from dark wizards while I was here. The magic that protects this place will stop if I don't come back for two weeks out of every year. That's not a threat; it's just how the magic works. And now that Voldemort is alive again, you'd all be in danger if you stayed here and I didn't." Harry sighed. "It's a tough decision all around, I know. But I'm willing to help you with whatever you decide to do, whether that's magically or financially."

Dudley had been listening to all this, but there was a different question that Harry hadn't answered. "What's that thing you came out of? It's not really the cupboard."

Harry grinned. "You're right. It's not even magic, but I'm not sure you really want to know just how right you all were about me being a freak. It's something I inherited from a distant ancestor on my father's side."

"That's enough," said Petunia. "We don't want to know. I wish I didn't know about magic." She looked her nephew in the eye with an expression that was trying not to be a glare. "You'd help us leave if we asked?"

"Yes. The account you named on the paperwork earlier would receive an extra gift, say £150,000. That should be enough for you to find another place, and get to keep most if not all of the child support money. That's not coming from the Kanli, either. It'll be an inheritance from your sister."

"Kanli?" asked Vernon.

"A Turkish word for a kind of blood feud, which I declared against Dumbledore."

"What about you, P-Harry?" asked Petunia. "If we're no longer your legal guardians, who would be?"

"I'm trying for legal emancipation. I have plenty of funds to see me through until I've graduated and can start earning a living, even without what he's nicked from me."

She frowned at him. "You said you'd be fine financially, but there are other considerations." She paused, staring at him, but in a way that said she was gathering her thoughts. "Before I consent to this emancipation, which I agree is in both our best interests, I want to know that there will be an adult looking out for you, even if they are not a legal guardian, someone you trust and can go to if you need something, or someone to talk to." Her expression lightened into something that could almost be called a smile. "I respect what you are doing, that you care that we were stolen from, and I want you to succeed."

Harry was stunned. "I-Thank you." He thought about what she had said. "I've got a couple of ideas, but I've got to sound them out. I'll let you know within a couple of days, and I'll make sure to use regular post. The wizards won't think to screen it."

"All right."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Harry sipped on an iced tea in the cafe while waiting for everyone to show up. He was wearing good Muggle clothing that actually fit, gifts from his TARDIS, and a flat brown wig with fringe to hide is scar and trademark hair. He was wearing brown contacts, as well, and as a result, he looked like a completely different person. His back was to the door, but there was a mirror in the corner that let him see the entire dining room, so he wouldn't be caught by surprise.

Fred and George came in first, followed quickly by Ron and Hermione, then more sedately by Remus. "He's not here!" Ron shouted.

Hermione hissed, "Hush, Ron! Do you want to give everything away? Dumbledore could have someone following us."

Ron slumped a little. "I just worried about him."

She softened. "I know, and so are the rest of us."

George said, "Speak for yourselves, mates."

Fred finished, "We think Harry's got this buttoned up."

Remus interrupted them all. "If Harry is choosing to be so cautious, we should follow his lead. Let's get our order put in so we have the food to bring back. That's our cover for the moment, so we stick to it."

They put in the order, by which Harry was able to hazard a guess that there were some thirty people who would be eating with them. Remus paid for the food, and Ron and Hermione sat at the table next to Harry to wait. Remus turned back around and stood between the two tables. He looked down at the apparent stranger and said, "Messers Moony and Padfoot send their greetings."

Harry grinned, glad that Remus had figured it out. "Mr. Prongs accepts them in the spirit in which they were given." His identity verified, Harry said, "Sit at the table and act like you're talking amongst yourselves. We've only got 'till the food is done, but since you're feeding an army, we've got a while."

"What's going on, Harry?" asked Remus. "The goblins are ready to declare Albus Dumbledore a thief!"

"That's because he is one." As concisely as possible, Harry outlined Dumbledore's crimes against him. "And this is only part of the story. I learned something while I was auditing my vault. Remus, did you ever see the painting of the ginger couple that hangs in there?"

"Yes, the one called 'The Potter and Marie'?"

"That's them. Well, the Potter gave me a part of the inheritance that could only go to the descendant with the greatest need. He told me something about himself, something he's never told any other, and he gave me something that will change _everything_. I want to show it to you all; I have a decision to make and I need help to make the right one. But I don't want to give Dumbledore a reason to move against any of you."

Remus said, "What kind of decision?"

"The choice whether to become something more than just a wizard, something nearly unique in all the universe."

"Nearly unique?"

Harry shrugged. "The Potter thinks there might be one other left. Certainly no more than that, though."

Remus thought about it. "You've declared your intent to invoke Kanli. When do you do the ritual?"

"Tonight."

"Then tomorrow will be soon enough. The goblins will take him into custody in the morning to read the Rites of Accusation, but you won't need to be there with them until the binding ceremony. Where should we meet you?"

"The park in Surrey, by the swings," Harry said immediately. "I'll wait for you, hidden, and then I'll bring you all in. Can Sirius make it?"

"Well, it's dangerous for him to be about."

"He'll be safe with us, I promise."

Remus nodded. "All right, I'll get him to come along as Padfoot." The girl behind the counter was waving them over. "Food's done. We'd best be getting back. We'll see you tomorrow morning, Harry."

"Thank you all for coming, for standing with me."

In unison, Fred and George said, "We wouldn't stand anywhere else."

Hermione said, "What Dumbledore's been doing is wrong. He wants to win against You-Know-Who, but he doesn't care who he hurts in the process. Besides, I've stood with you ever since you jumped on that troll's back, and I certainly have no plans to leave you now."

"Yeah, Harry," said Ron, smiling. "I know I can be a jealous git sometimes, but I'll still take you over anyone else."

Harry was grinning widely. "Thanks, everyone. See you all in the morning."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

He stayed in the TARDIS that night, as he had every night since leaving the Dursleys' home, and he wrote Aunt Petunia a letter about Remus, assuring her that he would be proper adult backup for him and hopefully allaying her concerns about his emancipation. At 11:00 he landed the TARDIS back in the goblin tunnels, just outside his vault, and he was met at his front door by Griphook, who took him back up to the bank proper so he could perform the Rite of Kanli.

The Rite was a ritual that involved a small amount of blood, the runes for vengeance, patience and gold, the full name of the person accused, and an incantation. Harry stood in front of a lit candle and cut his finger with a ceremonial dagger. He let a drop of blood fall into the candle, then wrote in the air, like the memory of Tom Riddle had once done, Dumbledore's full name. Then he drew the runes in the same way, and the fiery symbols surrounded the name. He spoke the words of the spell, which was Turkish instead of Latin, " _Hırsız ben hırsız için sen, sen isim. Sen arkadaşım kendini denilen benim düşmanım vardır. Ölümüne kadar, bizim kavga akışı, sürekli kanı edelim_." _Thief I name you, for thief you are. You are my enemy, who called himself friend. Let the blood of our feud flow, unceasing, until death._

Harry's wand flashed, and the runes bonded themselves to the name, and then the combined symbols fell into a piece of parchment that was sat there for that purpose. He dripped wax from the candle onto the parchment and pressed his family seal, which he'd found during the audit, into the wax. With that, the ritual was done, and the sealed parchment was taken to be filed with the rest of the records on the matter.

The ritual actually took quite a bit of magic, and by the time he was taken back to his TARDIS he was quite ready for bed. The portrait of the Potter, which was now hanging in a place of honor in the console room, asked, "Have you decided about becoming a Time Lord?"

He shook his head. "No. I want to call the Doctor first, find out if he is still alive. I'm not sure I really want to be the last of the Time Lords. It seems like it would be a very long and lonely life."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Dumbledore was truly shocked when the goblins came for him. Bad enough that they had declared him a thief, but to actually take him in?! A full Kanli hadn't been invoked in over a hundred years! And that boy! How did he even find out about the statute? The goblins should never have moved against him, but for Harry Potter to do so was insane! He was supposed to be grieving over Cedric's death and angry at everyone for not doing what he thought they should, not investigating his vault and having him arrested!

But everyone around him knew better. The goblins would never act unless they had proof, and Kanli was one of the oldest laws in their treaty with the wizards, making it one of the most respected, as well. It was a way to keep blood out of the streets if one pureblood family went up against another over matters of money. Before that treaty, several families had been exterminated over blood feuds like that. By invoking Kanli, Harry was actually saving Dumbledore's life, because legally he could have had him imprisoned.

While most of the Order of the Phoenix reeled from the loss of their leader, Remus, Sirius, and Harry's close friends left Grimmauld Place for Surrey. They had also brought Ginny with them, because she had found out what they were up to. She was just as interested in helping Harry as they were, and it was the only way to keep her shut.

The park was deserted until they arrived. The swings moved with the light breeze, blowing some of the sand against the walls of the green garden shed where the council kept their tools, but there was no sign of Harry-until he spoke in Hermione's ear. "Ginny?"

"She's with us, I promise."

"All right. I trust you." Louder, Harry said to everyone, "The shed there is where we're going." Still covered by his invisibility cloak, he took a look around the park, trying to see if anyone had followed his friends. Remus was looking, as well, but neither of them spotted anyone. Harry pulled the hood of the cloak back and took out his key, which was hanging from a chain around his neck.

Ron said, "It's a shed."

Harry grinned. "Remember the tents we used during the Quidditch Cup?" Ron nodded, then he opened the door, letting everyone in. "This is nothing like that."

Hermione saw the computers, and made a leap of logic into astonishment. "It's bigger on the inside, but it has working electronics? Electricity doesn't work around magic!"

The Potter answered her from the wall. "And this is neither! The energy used by a TARDIS is not magic, nor is it electrical. It is Artron radiation, several different plasmas and a black hole, all run by a sentient twelve-dimensional being. Welcome, all!"

Harry said, "Yeah, I think that was a little fast for them. I know it was for me."

"A black hole?" asked Fred.

"How does a dead star power anything?" asked George.

Surprisingly, Hermione beat the Potter to the punch. "By bending space-time to allow for travel through it. A current theory of one branch of Muggle science, but I was unaware that anyone had achieved anything close to realizing it!"

Marie Potter almost never spoke, coming from a different time, but she said, "I like that one."

The Potter was too busy gaping at her to answer for a moment, but then he shook his head to clear it. "So do I. Yes, that's quite correct. The thing is, young lady, I'm not a Muggle, nor am I a wizard."

Sirius figured that one out. "Extraterrestrial." He grinned. "James was part alien."

Harry grinned back at him. "Yes, he was. So am I, of course. Shall we all go to the kitchen for tea? This is going to take some telling." He had done a bit of exploring over the week he had been living in the TARDIS, and he had found the library, the living quarters, the kitchen, the owlery and the pool. He knew that he hadn't come close to seeing everything, though. He brought them to the kitchen, which was done in a 1950s American diner style, and put the kettle on while they sat at the table.

"So," said Ron, "you're living in a shed that's bigger on the inside and can travel anywhere, anywhen in the universe. Oh, and you're part alien."

"Yes. And this ship has enough technology to seriously change the outcome of the war. Magic and armaments cannot pierce her shielding, and she has weapons on board that Voldemort couldn't defend against." He looked at the floor. "I'm not sure I want to use them, though."

Ginny asked, "It travels through time. Can't you go back and keep Voldemort from-"

"No," Harry said, cutting her off. "Voldemort has affected our lives directly, and the book the TARDIS had me read on the rules of time travel are very clear. It would cause a paradox, one that could rip open the universe." He sighed. "Back in third year, I went back in time just three hours with Hermione. Knowing what I know now, that adventure was so dangerous, but we had created a circular paradox, and that meant it had to be fulfilled, or it would have collapsed. I saw myself summon the Patronus that saved me and Sirius. I thought I was seeing my dad, because I look like him, and because my Patronus is Prongs, his Animagus form. Then when I summoned it, I knew I could do it, because I already had.

"That's a very simple paradox, one that makes something happen. A paradox that _stops_ something happening will cause a wound in the universe, a wound that can get infected. There are these creatures that live in the Time Vortex called Reapers. They'll get into a wound in Time and wipe out everything related to it, usually the whole planet." He sighed. "I'd love to stop him before he ever became a problem, somehow fix him when he was just a kid. But he directly influenced my life, and if I were to stop him then, he wouldn't influence my life, and I wouldn't be able to go back in time to stop him."

Hermione nodded. "The trouble I went to that year to keep myself from causing that very thing-and then I was sleep deprived, so I started making mistakes."

Harry said, "I meant to ask; why didn't you use the Time Turner to get more sleep?"

She gave him a sheepish grin. "I didn't want to waste the sand on sleep when I could be studying."

That made everyone laugh.

"It sounds like, though, that being able to travel through time is not the thing you need to ask us about," said Remus. "You said you have a decision to make?"

"Yeah." Harry nervously took a deep breath. "I have that little bit of Time Lord in me, a spark that could be used to ignite an inferno. The technology to do that exists here on the TARDIS. I could become a full Time Lord, if I choose to."

Dead silence met that announcement. The kettle screamed giving everyone a moment to process while Harry poured the hot water over the leaves in all eight cups. "So," Remus said quietly, "the real question is, what do you want to do? And Harry, there is no reason to make this decision quickly."

He shrugged. "There are advantages to being a Time Lord, though, physical advantages. They have a trick, you see, to cheat death. When they physically get too old or injured to continue living, they change themselves, every cell in their body, becoming essentially a new person. Same memories, same soul, but different in every other respect. It's called regeneration and they can do this twelve times. The Potter was over six _thousand_ years old when he died. If Voldemort were to hit me with the Killing Curse as a Time Lord, there's every chance I would survive it, even if it meant regenerating.

"Then there are the other advantages: greater strength from denser muscles, greater endurance from having two hearts and a respiratory bypass, much greater resistance to chemical and biological agents, greater intelligence and mental capacity, some telepathy." He sighed as he passed out the tea. "Of course, it means that I'll likely outlive all of you. I'd have to watch everyone around me get old and die. Time Lords aren't even considered adults until they're at least two hundred years old, and if there are any left, there's only one. I'd end up alone.

"And their society? The TARDIS gave me a couple of books to read in the beginning; _The Basics of Time Travel_ and _A Condensed History of Gallifrey._ Gallifrey was the home world of the Time Lords." Harry shook his head. "It wasn't pretty. I'm just not sure I want to be a part of it."

Hermione asked, "Have you tried to contact this other Time Lord?"

"I sent out a message last night, but he hasn't responded yet." As if on cue, the sound of a door chime tolled through the TARDIS. Harry gaped at Hermione, and she looked back at him with wide eyes.

"Go!"

Harry shook himself and ran back through the TARDIS to the console room. He looked at one of the big monitors, which was showing the person who was requesting entrance and running a basic physical scan. It was a human-looking man with straight brown hair wearing a tweed jacket and a bow tie. He was shouting, "Hello? Did someone call for a Doctor?"

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

The Doctor didn't know what to expect when the door to the other TARDIS opened. He didn't feel another Time Lord, but he could tell that the ship was alive. He couldn't help but wonder who could be driving it and why they had sent him a message on the ship-to-ship comms. He'd actually thought that the comm system on his own TARDIS was disabled until the message came through. It had read simply, _Need to meet you. My decision will affect you. Come for morning tea?_ Then it had listed a set of space-time coordinates.

Whatever he had expected, though, it certainly hadn't been a teenaged human boy. He had messy black hair and a pair of square-framed spectacles over the most intensely green eyes he had ever seen in a human face. "Hello," said the boy. "Kettle's hot, and we haven't got out the jam yet. Would you care to join us?"

"Love to. Might I have your name, though?"

"It's Harry, sir. Harry Potter."

"Potter, you say?"

He smiled shyly as he stepped back to let the Doctor into his TARDIS. "I understand you knew a relative of mine once."

"I-I think I might have." The Potter? Well, he knew the man had gone and started a family. But that was nearly a thousand years ago by this time. Had they continued time traveling?

"Well, I see you survived," came a familiar voice. The Doctor's head snapped up, but instead of seeing the Potter himself, he saw a portrait. It was a highly detailed oil of the Potter and his wife, but-then the figure in the painting _moved_! "You're not imagining things. My lovely Marie is a witch, as her family have been for generations, and she had this portrait commissioned so that some part of us could continue to guide the family." The Potter's image pointed at his scion. "That one's considering taking up the mantle, as it were."

"Witches?"

The Potter stared at him. "Don't tell me you've never run across their lot? With the way you're in love with this planet?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the portrait. "Ran across a trio of Carionites a couple of centuries back, in Shakespeare's London."

"Not the same. Not even close." The Potter chuckled and turned to Harry. "Lad, you'll educate him?"

"'Course. I've got all my friends here for tea. They're trying to help me with all this, and with things that strictly pertain to the wizarding world." He then led the bemused Doctor through the short corridor that led to the kitchen.

There were seven other people in the kitchen, five of them teens of similar age to Harry, and two adult men. Harry introduced them, and then got down to the business of explaining the situation he had found himself in. He described a war against a magical Hitler figure, a war that had begun anew after nearly fourteen years of quiet, a teacher who stole from his student, and the choice that lay ahead of a fifteen-year-old boy to be or not to be. While Harry passed out the jam and biscuits, the Doctor ruminated over all that he'd been told.

"To be so young, you have quite a bit on your shoulders. And you still want emancipation?"

Harry nodded solemnly. "I know that part of their bitterness toward me over the years was that they were never compensated for my care, and when they saw me trying to rectify that they softened up a bit, but the Dursleys do not like magic, not even Muggle magic like David Copperfield. Aunt Petunia did say she won't agree to it unless I've got competent adult backup, people I can trust, but she's just as ready to be quit of me as I am of her."

The Doctor nodded, glad that both parties were being adults about it, but those closer to Harry were more concerned. "Harry," Sirius began, "you know I'd take you in."

"Sirius, you're a wanted fugitive, no matter that we know you are innocent. Remus is a werewolf, so he can't adopt me, and the Weasleys still have all four of you living at home. There's no one else I'd trust enough to live with them, and if I let the Ministry pick someone, I'd end up with Malfoy or worse."

Ron said, "Yeah, he'd end up sent to You-Know-Who wrapped up like a Christmas present."

Hermione said, "My parents are pretty adamant that they don't want any more children. Not that you aren't already a brother to me."

Harry grinned at her with appreciation. "Thanks."

"Too bad portraits don't count," said Fred.

George finished, "Because the Potter's your real family."

Ginny, the quietest one of the bunch, seemed to gather herself, and said, "Harry'll be fine on his own, just so long as he's not alone. You've got all of us, Harry."

He looked at her, seeming to need to measure something. "You're not mad at me for refusing to go back in time and kill Tom Riddle in his cradle? I know how he hurt you."

The Doctor's eyes flew open at that, but Ginny just shook her head. "No. You're right. If it would damage the present to change the past, we shouldn't do it. Instead we have to make sure he can't hurt anyone else."

Harry smiled proudly. "Yes, we will." He looked at the Doctor and said, "I don't know much about the Time Lords, but what I've read I don't like. They seem like the worst of our own government, only magnified. If I do this, I'm deciding here and now that I won't be like that. I won't withhold aid when I can help without causing paradoxes, and I won't punish people for getting better than me. A Time Lord may be superior to a human, but I don't think they're better than one. Do you agree?"

The Doctor grinned. "Amazing. And you're only fifteen! Obviously you don't know everything that happened, and there were some things that you can't understand right now because you're human. But let me say, with that attitude, if you do choose to become one, I think you'll be a great one." He shifted and changed the subject. "Now, I have never seen magic, not like what you lot have been describing. Is it some kind of biological function or technology?"

Hermione said, "A little of both, but really neither. I don't know if magic is energy or a particle or both, though I'm leaning toward both, like light and electricity are. Harry, have you got any candles in this kitchen? I don't want to use a conjured one for demonstration."

"Um, sure. I think I saw a packet of birthday candles." He stood to get them.

"That'll be fine." She turned back to the Doctor, apparently happy as a clam to have a scientific mind to bounce her knowledge off of. "Magic obeys some of the laws of particle physics, including the First and Second Laws of Thermodynamics. One simple spell we learn the first year of school is Incendio, which can light a small fire or a big one. The words of a spell are meant to focus our minds so that the magic works. They aren't truly necessary, but they make it much easier, and a mind that can't even focus enough to pronounce the spell correctly doesn't have the focus required to focus their magic. The wand has been developed over millennia to aid in that focus and to provide an aiming mechanism." Harry sat one of the candles on the table and Hermione aimed her wand at it. She flicked her wand in a tight spiraling motion while saying the word "incendio". Sparks and a spiral of light shot from the wand to the candle and ignited the wick.

Excited to be seeing something so new to him, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and set it to scan all particle wavelengths. "Do that again?"

The sonic picked up an amazing array of exotic particles hanging about all eight of the humans in the room, and it detected the exact frequency that Hermione was using to use those particles. She wasn't wrong, either. It was a psionic frequency, one which seemed designed to attract and use the energy that existed in between molecules, the energy of vacuum or space. "That is extraordinary! I had no idea that any humans had evolved to use vacuum energy. In fact, I can't think of any other species that can use it naturally like that!" _(Note: I'm borrowing this concept from althor42's "Tar'Chell's Wrath", but there will be no other mention of SG-1-like concepts.)_

Hermione gaped at him. "Why didn't I think of that?"

She was usually the smartest person in the room, and she was used to having to explain things. Her reaction was so priceless; Harry and Ron looked at each other and started laughing. The twins and Ginny were grinning, Sirius was giggling a little, and Remus had an indulgent smile on his face. Hermione looked put out, but Harry stood and hugged her from behind. "Never change, mate. Never ever change."

She looked around the table and realized the humor in it. Harry still couldn't stop laughing, and grinning at herself she swatted him on the shoulder. "Oh, shut up, Harry."

With pride Ron said, "Brightest witch of our generation, she is, able to explain magical theory to a Muggle!"

"Oi, don't call me a Muggle! What's a Muggle?" That sent them all laughing again.

They spent a couple more minutes demonstrating the major branches of magic, and Harry brought out his father's journal of notes on the making of the Marauder's Map, as well as the map itself. Remus and Sirius waxed nostalgic over the items, while Fred and George begged for the marketing rights.

But while they had answered a great many of the Doctor's questions, they had yet to ask enough of their own, and the conversation inevitably returned to him. Harry asked, "So, what is it that you do?"

"All I really try to do is travel. I told someone once, the best way to own the universe is just to see it. And there really is so much to see! What I like to do is to take a friend with me, a traveling companion, because seeing things for the first time is so much better if it can be shared. Right now there's a couple, married, living in Ledworth in 2009 with a painted blue door. They think I'm dead, to be honest, but eventually, I'll surprise them. See, I'm trying to let their lives last longer for me, so I won't visit for a while. It's my only way of making their lives last, of keeping my friends." He looked every bit of his incredible age as he said, "Because everyone dies, Harry. Eventually."

He sighed, stirring his tea as he continued. "I'm on my last regeneration, you see. Oh, I've got quite a few years left in me, as long as I'm careful. But my last couple of faces didn't last very long, to be honest. Eventually, if you choose this, you will be alone, last of the Time Lords. What you make of that state will also be your own choice. The Potter's children favored their human side, until they were mostly human, ending with you. But there is a way for your children to be Time Lords instead of human. You could choose the path of rebuilding our species on a new world. Or you can let it die with you. A great many choices are laid before you, but none of them are urgent. You have all the time in the universe to make those choices."

Remus said, "Harry, I know you're looking at the tactical advantages this will give you in the coming fight, but speaking as someone who was forced to change species, I would advise you put a great deal of thought into this before going through with it."

The Doctor scanned the scarred man with the sonic. "Lupine wavelength haemovariform. You're a werewolf?"

Lupin raised an eyebrow at him. "I was bitten as a child. It's a disease, Doctor, but you can't catch it if you're not bitten."

"Oh, don't think I hold anything against you for it. I was just surprised. Met another one once, at exactly the _wrong_ time of the month. I and R-my companion were lucky not to get bitten. Might not have been able to infect me, but it would have her." The Doctor shook his head. "Sorry to interrupt."

Harry said, "Traveling all over the universe doesn't sound like a bad life, though. Sounds brilliant, actually."

The Doctor settled back in his chair and decided to be very honest. "It certainly can be. I've seen the beginning and the end of the universe, seen stars born and seen them die, civilizations rise and fall. I've see awesome beauty and things that were so ugly they were fascinating! But I've also seen evil and terror. It can be very dangerous. My TARDIS doesn't always take me where I want to go, but she always takes me where I need to be, and that often means jumping headlong into trouble. I've met rulers of every kind, artists, soldiers, alien creatures of every description. I've run from angels and fought the devil himself. And if you choose this life there is only one thing I can promise that you will never be, and that is bored.

"Of course, just because you become a Time Lord doesn't mean you have to travel all over the universe, either. You don't have to be me. You can choose to settle, as the Potter did. He did quite a bit of traveling earlier in his life, but it was always in search of something to practice his art on. I studied with him for a year back in my fifth body, and he was absolutely devoted to sculpture." He shrugged. "Well, obviously, given the name he chose. Really, the choice of what you do with the rest of your life is up to you, just as it would be if you remained human."

Harry shook his head. "I've never felt as if that were true, though. Voldemort has been trying to kill me since I was one year old! If I don't stop him, he's just going to keep coming." There were tears forming in his eyes. "Cedric Diggory is dead because I was stupid enough to fall into Voldemort's trap. I barely knew him, but he was a great guy and he didn't deserve this! I _won't_ let it happen to someone I care for!" He wiped his eyes angrily. "My life is not my own, not until he's dead or I am!"

Remus and Sirius shared a look, then Remus shrugged and Sirius stood to face Harry directly. "You're more right than you know. In the months before you were born a prophesy was made. Dumbledore heard it, and he warned your parents, which is why they went under the Fidelius Charm to hide. But he was not the only one to hear, and the first half of the prophesy was relayed to Voldemort. It said that the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord would be born as the seventh month ended to those who had defied him three times. He made the assumption that the child would be the half-blood, like he was, so he started hunting James and Lily. He didn't hear the second part of the prediction, that he would mark the child as his equal and that the child would have a power he didn't understand."

Harry's hand automatically went to his scar. "Yep. And it finished by saying 'neither can live while the other survives'. But Harry, none of that means you have to do this. The power in that prophesy isn't the power of Time. It's family, the one you made for yourself out of the humans in this room. He doesn't have friends. He has followers, and they're all scared to death of him. Nothing's guaranteed, Harry. But I'd put my money on us against him any day. So take your time deciding this. You don't have to do this to win, so make sure it's what you really want to do."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~


	3. Dementors and the Thief's Trial

**Chapter Three: Dementors and Trials**

Harry sat on the red bench seat in the console room, leaning back and staring at the Time Rotor, thinking about his future path. His makeshift family had all gone back to their headquarters, which was under the Fidelius Charm. Sirius had told him that the Secret would pass to him once he bound Dumbledore to the Kanli, and then he'd be able to come and visit everyone. The Doctor had left to deal with a problem in 1940, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

He was so very tempted to make the change. He knew what an advantage being a Time Lord would afford him, even in normal life. The greater intelligence and mental capacity would come in very handy this year, which was his OWL year. Thinking about that made him wonder; would he still be a wizard if he became a Time Lord?

He looked over at the portrait on the wall. "Will I still be able to do magic?"

The Potter stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Did the Doctor make any discoveries about magic?"

"He said it was psionic manipulation of vacuum energy. Waved that little machine of his with the green light at the end around Hermione while she lit a candle with her wand. Later he said something about possibly being able to mimic the ability with one of his machines. I didn't really follow it, though."

The portrait smiled at him. "You've been training your mind for four years how to use that energy to purpose, and with the natural increase in mental capacity, you shouldn't lose that ability. In fact, with greater intelligence you might even gain proficiency." Harry nodded, but he didn't say anything about it. "Thinking about the binding?"

"Yeah." Tomorrow Harry would have to stand in the same room as Dumbledore as he was bound to the Kanli. He expected several other people to be there, as well, such as Arthur Weasley, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. He didn't know how they were reacting to this. He knew that the Kanli was proven, without room for doubt. He knew Snape would use anything against him he could. But would Mr. Weasley understand? Or Professor McGonagall?

The console closest to him started flashing a light at him and making a beeping noise. He looked up at it and saw Dudley writhing on the ground outside in the park. The screen split into two displays of the same scene, one visual and one infrared. Harry knew in an instant what he was looking at. Dudley was being attacked by Dementors. There were two of them, and though the visual camera couldn't pick them up, they showed up as great dark blobs on the infrared, blobs whose shapes and activity were easily recognizable to Harry.

From the wall, the Potter asked, "What is it?"

Harry just shouted, "Dementors," and ran out the TARDIS doors, pulling his wand as he went. Immediately upon leaving the safety of the TARDIS, the depressing effect of the Dementors fell upon him like a ton of bricks. He staggered, but quickly regained his footing, trying desperately to ignore the screams of his mother in his mind. Bringing to mind the beautiful, if false, image that had been given to him by the Mirror of Erised when he was eleven, Harry aimed his wand at the demons and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

Prongs chased off the Dementors quickly and with ease, but Dudley was in a bad way. Had they gotten his soul? Harry sent Prongs to find Madame Pomfrey with the message, "Dementor attack, Muggle, Little Whinging Park." He didn't know if he could trust her any more than he knew about Professor McGonagall, but he knew Dudley was in a bad way and needed help. He knelt down next to his cousin. "Dudley, can you stand?"

"C-c-cold."

"I know, Dudley. Can you stand? I've got to get you indoors in case they come back." Harry grabbed Dudley under his arm and tried to help the heavy boy stand. But Dudley was virtually boneless, and Harry started thinking about first aid. He cast a warming charm on Dudley first. Then, concentrating on the layout of Dudley's room and its location, he summoned his candy stash, which was the emergency supply he kept in case his mother decided he needed a diet. From the pillow case, Harry pulled out everything chocolate he could find and started unwrapping the candy to feed to Dudley. "Eat the chocolate, Dudley. It really will make you feel better."

Madame Pomfrey arrived with a pop, and took in the scene. "Mister Potter, what-?"

"Please, Madame Pomfrey. By the time I got to him they'd almost kissed him! I'm still not sure they haven't. I cast a warming charm and summoned his candy bag for the chocolate, but that's all I knew to do."

"Oh, Merlin's beard!" She cast a few diagnostic charms on Dudley, nodded and tutted a bit, then said, "Well, it looks like your Patronus got to him in time. He still has his soul. But he's going to need some more extensive treatment than I can give him here in a play park! Where are his parents? They're going to need to come along."

Harry gulped. "You know, I think I've gotten them to accept me, a little, but they really don't like magic."

She snorted at that. "If they want their son to come out of this hale and whole, they'll do what they're told. All right, now, send that lovely Patronus to Remus Lupin and have him bring them here."

"All right."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

It took an hour for Madame Pomfrey to convince the Dursleys that Dudley would have to be treated magically because the injury was magical. And when Harry received the letter from the Ministry stating that he was expelled, she said something completely unladylike and told Harry that he needed to disappear. "They'll have to have a hearing. They can't summarily expel someone from the school for underage magic. Professor McGonagall will see to that." She looked up at him. "You're going to need a solicitor, young man."

Harry shook his head in annoyance, a rueful grin on his face. "I'm going to be living in court rooms for the next month, it seems. I'll hire a solicitor, I promise. Now, it'll be best for everyone you don't know where I'm staying."

She smiled kindly at him. "I should be getting on to St. Mungo's anyway. I don't want anyone mucking around with your cousin. Imagine, setting Dementors on a child!" She shook her head and turned to leave.

He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, his face thunderous. "Setting?"

"Didn't you know? The Dementors of Azkaban are under a geis controlled by the Ministry for Magic. Someone there had to have sent them to Surrey."

Once Madame Pomfrey had Apparated away, Harry returned to his TARDIS and shut the door. For a moment, he couldn't move. Someone was trying to kill him again, already. His fifteenth year was only two days old. Of course, he was under no delusion that the Dementors had been after Dudley, but that he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. No, there was only one child those things will have been ordered to kiss, and that was himself. He had a real enemy in the Ministry for Magic. And now, he would have to go there to defend himself against accusations of underage magic.

"Well, this is a mess, isn't it?" said the Potter. "The TARDIS showed me everything as it was happening. You've got the binding in the morning, then the emancipation hearing and now this farce. As if self-defense wasn't a reason to use magic, even for an underage wizard."

Harry said, "Obviously I have another enemy. No way those things were sent to eat Dudley. He's not really that important, not to anyone but his family. But I can see someone sending the beasts after me. I'm highly sensitive to them, and I seem to be on a lot of hit lists."

The Potter nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Agreed. Now, you are going to need a solicitor, and I'd recommend asking the goblins for a contact or two. They are essentially acting in that capacity right now with the Kanli, but that only works because it's goblin law. For human law, you need a human lawyer."

Harry nodded. "That makes sense. Well, I'm going to try and get some sleep. It's going to be an early morning."

The Potter snorted. "Lad, you're in a time machine. You've got all the time you need."

"But you haven't taught me how to fly her through time yet, only space."

"Ah! So I haven't. Well, now is a good time for a beginner's lesson. We'll put her into the Time Vortex and you can coast for a while, get as much sleep as you need, get in some reading on wizarding law in the late 20th century."

"You have books on that? Why does a sculptor have law books in his library?"

"At some point in the future, the wizarding world produces a product called Shrunken Stacks, and I bought one on a lark when I was visiting Salem in 2158. It's a portable library containing every wizarding book ever written. You say the password, then either the title, subject or author you're looking for and it will bring up a listing of books to choose from, followed by the book you choose from that list."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I have a feeling I know who invented and marketed those."

Harry slept himself out once he put the TARDIS into the Vortex. He couldn't say how much time passed because time had no meaning, so there were no clocks, but it felt like nearly twelve hours. Then he went to the TARDIS library and found the Shrunken Stacks book. Looking it over, he had no doubt that Hermione had invented it and the Weasleys had marketed and sold it. It worked like a combination of Tom Riddle's diary and the Marauder's Map, which meant it had been created by someone with access to both stories and the arithmantic equations for the Map, besides the fact that it was a library. And the front cover of the book said, "Shrunken Stacks, a resource for late-term cramming for finals, OWLs and even NEWTs, brought to you by Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes!" He'd given the Weasley twins his prize money from the tournament last year in the hopes they'd get their business off the ground, as well as not wanting anything to do with the money. It looked like they would be successful.

Harry chuckled at it and wrote in the answers to the search questions, shivering a bit as the ink sunk into the parchment. Then ink started resurfacing, beginning with the title of a book, "Civil and Criminal Statutes, Wizarding Law in Britain, 1995 AD". He sighed. This was going to take a while.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Before putting the TARDIS back into normal space, Harry slept again, then he brought her out inside Gringott's. It was 5:30 in the morning, and the standing guard who the goblins had put on Harry's vault had proven himself by not startling when she materialized. When Harry exited the TARDIS, he was dressed as the Lord of his House should dress, in formal crimson robes with his House Crest embroidered on the right lapel and on the back, a matching wizard's hat, green dragon hide boots and gloves and a dueler's wrist holster for his wand. He also wore the signet ring of the House of Potter, signifying his status as Lord, a status Dumbledore would have denied him by default. It would make it clear to the Conclave that he was acting on behalf of his House, not just his person. That he was the only surviving member of his House meant little under these circumstances.

The goblin guard led him to the Conclave Chamber, and when he entered, he had to fight himself not to run in the other direction from sheer nervousness. The Lords or Ladies of twelve of the Noble Houses were required to be present for the binding of another member to Kanli. Lucius Malfoy was there. So were Crabbe and Goyle Srs. But also present were Alice Longbottom, Amos Diggory, Professor McGonagall, and many witches and wizards he did not know. Hopefully the three Death Eaters wouldn't try anything while surrounded by goblins and light wizards.

Lord Raknot of the Gringott's Clan was presiding over the assembly, and once Harry was seated, he stood before them and said, "All present in this assembly are here to witness this act against a House of the Conclave of Britain. Here, you are under ancient law, and that law has been broken. Wizards and witches, here be a _thief_!" At his signal, the guards brought Dumbledore into the Conclave. He was disarmed, and dressed in the same robe he'd been arrested in. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you stand before this Conclave under the blood geis of Kanli, accused of serial theft from the vaults of the House of Potter and from those under the protection of that House. What say you to this accusation?"

Angrily, the aged wizard said, "I say it is a lie!"

"Then let the proof against you be known," said Lord Raknot.

From there the trial commenced, with only the goblins handling the evidence. Members of the Conclave were allowed to ask questions, and Dumbledore was allowed to speak in his own defense, but he soon found that there was no defense of his actions. He'd stolen from the mouth of a child for nearly fourteen years, defied the wills of that child's parents, and stolen from the House vaults of a member of the Conclave. The last thing he said was, "It is not stealing if it is to protect him!"

And here, Harry spoke for himself. "Protect me from what, _Professor_? Your blood wards were protecting me from wizards who meant me harm, but they didn't protect me from anything else, and you didn't step in yourself. I didn't even know what I was before I got my Hogwarts letter! You wanted me needy, dependent, willing to do anything for you, so you made certain that my mother's sister had no reason to treat me well. If I depended on you, you could mould me into the weapon you were convinced you needed, and use my money to fight a war that had gone quiet. You let me face dangers no child should, and still you stole from me and the people you stuck me with. So don't act like you had my interests at heart!"

Dumbledore looked at Harry with his mouth open in shock. How did he know? How had this gone so badly?

Lord Raknot was obviously amused at this cub taking down one of the strongest wizards of their age, but he said nothing of it. "Are there any further questions?"

Lucius Malfoy spoke up for the first time. "As I believe that Mr. Potter's claim is a valid one and that Kanli has been proven, is he now left without a guardian?"

"No. The guardianship of the Dursleys has been called into question, but through no fault of their own. It is not a matter for the Conclave, but for the wizard courts, and a hearing on the matter has been scheduled for next week at the Ministry for Magic."

Malfoy tried not to let his glee at that prospect show, but he wasn't very successful.

"If there is nothing further, let the Conclave make its opinion known. If you agree with Lord Potter's invocation of Kanli, raise your hand." Most of the hands in the room came up. "And those who do not agree." There were only three hands out of the seventeen, and Malfoy surprised him by not being one of them. "The Conclave is agreed. Albus Dumbldore, you and your House are now bound to make restitution to the House of Potter, and all your earnings will go to him until such restitution is complete. None may help you financially, none may give you money, for if they do, it will go to him and his protectorate. The Rites of Kanli are hereby bound!"

Lord Raknot picked up a polished sphere of granite and crashed it against the stone circle that lay on the podium next to him. The sound was accompanied by a wave of magic, and the symbols from the Rite of Kanli appeared in the air. They wrapped themselves around Dumbledore and flowed into his skin. For the rest of his life, or until his debt was paid, any time he took money for himself those runes would flash, and that money would flow into Harry Potter's vault.

"You are now free to leave, Dumbledore. We do not have the power to imprison you. But you should be aware that the Ministry for Magic is still free to charge you criminally in this case. This Conclave is dismissed." A goblin guard handed Dumbledore his wand back, and Harry tensed, not sure how he would react to having his weapon back in his hand. But he just Apparated away.

"He'll run, you know," said Malfoy. "He's lost the support of the one person he thought he could control completely."

"It won't help him. What do you want, Lord Malfoy?" It was the etiquette of the Conclave that all but the accused were addressed by their formal titles.

For a moment, the tall man simply stared at Harry, as if he was seeing him for the first time. Then he said, "What will you do if I ask for guardianship? After all, you need adults in your life that know about magic and can help you to become what a wizard should be."

Harry grinned at him, and it wasn't nice. "You wouldn't last long as my guardian, would you? You'd hand me over to him without a second thought. You can expect a fight, and I have powerful allies. Now, if you don't mind, Lady McGonagall wants a word with me." Indeed, the professor was standing politely out of earshot while they spoke, but was plainly waiting to speak to Harry herself.

"Of course. Well, I can say this, Lord Potter; it's going to be an interesting year." And with that, the tall blonde man turned and glided from the room.

Harry nodded in agreement. It certainly would be.

Once Malfoy was clear, McGonagall approached him. "Mi-Lord Potter, I owe you an apology. I swear I didn't know about this, but I didn't go looking into where he got his money, either."

But he shook his head. "It's all right. I only found out because I turned fifteen."

"But I am an adult, quite capable of seeing what a child would not. No, I am at least partly to blame for all of this. I was blinded by his power and his seeming zeal for the good of our world and the Muggleborns. But no longer. What are you doing about the guardianship of the Dursley family?"

"I'm planning something, but I don't want to say what here."

She nodded. "No, that's quite sensible. All right. There is a secret which now belongs to you. Please feel free to come and visit."

He smiled and nodded. He'd definitely be making a trip to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, in the near future.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

A passerby would have noticed the tree in front of the space between numbers eleven and thirteen on Grimmauld Place. It was big, with large, shiny leaves and unusual white flowers. It was a tree that did not belong, being an American breed, so someone unfamiliar with the neighborhood would notice it. But those who lived on Grimmauld place did not notice it. They didn't even see it. And no one would see the door that was in the back side of the tree because it was disguised.

No one could see the young man who exited that door because he was wearing a Cloak of Invisibility over a disillusionment charm.

Harry walked right through the protections at Grimmauld Place because he was now the Secret Keeper. _The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix is located at number twelve, Grimmauld Place._ He shuddered to be subject to the same trust which had been abused by Peter Pettigrew, but he knew that he would not betray that trust, and he would make certain that no one else did either. Now, to find out what the Order of the Phoenix was.

He walked up to the house, taking in every detail. It was not a welcoming neighborhood, and this was the least welcoming home in it. The housefront was filthy, and weeds choked the front garden. It looked like it had been built in the 1840s, and that no one had cared for the exterior since. Of course, in this drought, weeds were the only thing that could grow, anyway.

He shook off his reverie and walked up the stairs to the door. There was no knob or lock, only a knocker and a bell. The knocker was a silver serpent, all twisted and coiled. Harry didn't want to ring the bell, afraid of startling someone into hexing him, so he touched his wand to the knocker. The wards of the house recognized the magic of the Secret, and the door clicked open, though it didn't swing widely. Harry pushed his way in and softly shut it, making sure his cloak didn't catch in the frame.

The inside wasn't much better. It had probably been quite gorgeous once, even with its serpentine decor. It was lit from the walls with gas lights and from the ceiling by a huge chandelier, but the room still managed to be dark, mostly because of the grime that covered every surface but one, a set of black velvet curtains covering a portrait. There were other portraits on the wall, men and women who all had a certain family resemblance about them. In fact they looked a bit like-

"Sirius, you can't just wander off to go and find him. He said he'd be here, so he will! He's got his Mum's head on his shoulders, not just her eyes."

Sure enough, Sirius came up a stair off to the side, followed by Remus.

"Remus, we've got to let him know about the hearing, and I want my godson here! He's been left in the dark for far too long about far too much and it ends now!" Sirius seemed very agitated, and Harry wanted to let him know he was here. But he waited another moment to hear Remus's response.

Remus said, "I agree, believe me. Harry plans on taking a much greater part in this war unless I mistook his tone the other night, and with that alien machine on his side, he'll be making a hell of a difference. He needs to know everything. But don't you realize that he'll come to us? No one has to go and get him."

Harry smiled warmly and removed both the disillusionment and the cloak. "No, you don't."

They both whipped around before they could think, their wands out, but soon enough their brains caught up. "Harry," shouted Sirius. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a minute or so. How long has this argument been going on?" Sirius had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sirius, I'm about to ask the courts to have me declared an adult. I know that doesn't change how you see me, but I hope you'll accept a role of guidance rather than guardianship. I need people around me that I can trust, and who can trust me. I hope you'll both be that for me."

Sirius looked at him solemnly. "I-I want to trust you, Harry, it's just-" He sighed. "I should have been able to raise you. I should have been there for you, and instead I went after Peter. I know that was wrong, and I want to be there for you now."

"You _can_ be there for me, but I don't need looking after anymore. I can make decisions, think things through. I may make a decision that would seem reckless or irrational in the heat of the moment, but the consequences will be my own. I'm not asking to be alone. I'm asking to be an adult."

Sirius nodded, then changed the subject. "Well, let me welcome you to my home, Harry." Remus shook his head in exasperation at his brother's avoidance of the issue.

Harry just raised an eyebrow and went with it. "This is your house? You grew up here?"

"Yes, I did. Well, it's my mother's house, really. She's been gone ten years, but she left enough of herself behind that it's still hers and not mine." He pointed at the velvet curtained portrait. "We try to keep her asleep, as she's _really_ not happy with the company I've been keeping."

Remus said, "We've tried everything we can think of to remove her, but we don't know what she did to make the portrait stick."

Harry stared at that wall for a moment. Then he said, "Did you try cutting the wall out around her?"

Sirius was shocked and looked as if someone had struck him in the head with a pole. Remus chuckled and said, "Good man, Harry! All right, let's let everyone else know you're here, and then we can update everyone at once." He started to lead Harry down the same stairs he had just come up.

Both he and Harry laughed when Sirius's bewildered voice asked, "Why didn't I think of that?"

Remus grinned at him. "Because she's been driving you batty, her and Kreacher both. Come on, Padfoot. We'll cut her out later, give her to the elf. That'll make him happy."

Sirius snorted a laugh, and followed them to the stairs. "Won't it just!"

Curious, Harry asked, "Kreacher?"

"Mother's house elf. He's completely devoted to her and my brother, and now that they're gone, he's gone a little mad. We can't dismiss him because he'd be a security risk, and I'm not really planning to continue the family tradition of mounting their heads on the stair wall." Harry made a face at that. "Yes, horrible. And worse is that he'd probably consider it an honor. But there are a lot of family traditions I won't be keeping with. They weren't nice people, Harry."

He nodded. "I can relate."

Down the stairs was the basement, which was mostly occupied by an enormous kitchen. There was a large fireplace at one end, with a large table and chairs down the middle. Iron pots and braided garlic cloves decorated the ceiling, along with a rustic wagon-wheel chandelier which provided light to the room. The entire Weasley family except Percy was there, as were Alastor Moody, Professor McGonagall, a tall black man dressed in colorful central African robes, Amos Diggory, a small scurrying man with scraggly red hair, Fleur Delacour, the girl with the color-changing hair, and finally, Severus Snape. That last surprised him most of all, but he kept his peace.

Professor McGonagall smiled at him, and said, "Welcome to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Mr. Diggory snorted. "If it can be called that anymore." He glared at Harry. "The one with the Phoenix ran off, trying to outrun his blood debt to you. And I don't expect a fifteen-year-old boy to save us from You-Know-Who just because of some daft prophesy!"

"Good," said Harry, "because if I'm the only one fighting, we'll all surely die. Of course, I'll be fighting; I don't think V-You-Know-Who will let me avoid it. But this is a war, and wars are fought by armies, not individuals."

Severus sneered and stood. "And do you in your _infinite_ wisdom seek to lead us?"

Harry snorted. "I'm fifteen. I'm not fit to lead anything, with the possible exception of a Quidditch team. But I don't plan on letting anyone keep me out of the fight, either."

"But Harry," protested Mrs. Weasley, "you're just a boy! You have no business fighting in a war!"

"Do you think that will stop him from trying to kill me? Was I not only a boy in 1980, or when he possessed Quirrel? Or in the Chamber of Secrets? Or even in the grave yard two months ago? Voldemort doesn't care!" His use of the name started a commotion, conversely allowing Harry the time to calm down a little. "Look, I'm sorry if it upsets you. I think a great deal of both you and Mr. Weasley. But you _must_ understand. If I don't fight, he'll kill me."

Sirius said, "Of course, you'll fight. You're James's son, and he'd never back down from a fight. Now why doesn't everyone sit down, and we'll all catch each other up, shall we?"

Molly stood up straighter, then said, "All right. Harry needs to hear all of it, I suppose." Then he rounded on her brood and Hermione. "But you lot don't! Go on, up the stairs with you." Then she started bullying her younger children, the twins and Hermione out of the basement.

Over the next two hours, Harry learned much. Tonks, the girl whose hair changed colors, was actually a metamorphmagus, and could look any way she wanted. The scraggly ginger was Mungdungus Fletcher, a no-account thief who was also an information broker. He brought in a lot of knowledge from the streets of Magical London. Kingsley Shacklebolt brought the Order information from the DMLE since he was an Auror. So was Tonks, but she was a much more junior-level yardie than Shacklebolt. McGonagall and Moody brought a strategic perspective to the table, and the Weasleys and Ms Delacour a willingness to fight.

Snape was the spy among them against Voldemort. His information was of extreme value - if it could be trusted. And that seemed to be a point of contention. Moody and Sirius didn't trust him. McGonagall and Remus did. Dumbledore had, but that was no longer a point in his favor. Harry now had to decide if he could trust him with this. He asked, "Sir, if you didn't have to be a spy, wouldn't that be better?"

Snape's eyebrows twitched for a moment, the only sign he gave of his surprise. "You have no idea. To be a servant of the Dark Lord is a trial on its own, one I must also balance with gathering information for both sides. You see, he believes I am _his_ spy. I must choose what to tell him that won't hurt us, but that will be proven correct, therefore giving me the illusion of usefulness. And if I fail-well it's not death I'll fear. That'll be a mercy."

Harry looked him in the eye, trying to gauge something. Then he nodded, and said, "You have always been honest with me, Professor, and you have never allowed me to think too much of myself. You're unfair, and you're a tyrant. But you've always been consistent and shown everyone exactly who you are. I vote to trust you, so long as you continue to prove trustworthy. And I also suggest that you give yourself an out. Please have an exit strategy."

Now Snape's shock was plain. So was Sirius's. "Harry, are you sure?"

He shrugged. "He has my vote."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Harry also updated everyone on his own troubles, but not on his alien heritage. He had a hearing scheduled for nine in the morning on Thursday and one at three in the afternoon on Friday. Thursday was for underage magic, and Friday was for his emancipation. Both would have a great deal of influence on how he was able to fight.

Professor McGonagall let them all know that the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was trying to insert a teacher into the Hogwarts staff by passing a law that they could replace any teacher that she as the new Headmistress was unable to. "He's paranoid, refuses to believe the truth about You-Know-Who, and thinks Hogwarts will raise an army against him. The most vulnerable position is, of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts, but now that I am the Head, Transfiguration is also now open. I can't do both; it's against the school charter and it would be far too difficult." She sighed. "I could rehire Dumbledore. He used to teach Transfiguration as well."

A great deal of grumbling met that statement, but Harry didn't add to it. He could accept knowledge from the old man, and he'd receive every knut he made as salary. "We've dealt with bad Defense teachers before."

"Yes, but a Ministry assigned teacher might actually try to sabotage your education intentionally. They've tried for years to assign a common approved curriculum, but every teacher is allowed to choose their own texts."

Snape said, "It's worrisome, yes. But that is more school business, than Order business. These hearings; it should be safe enough to inform the Dark Lord of them because you will be within the safety of the Ministry building. But he _will_ try to kill you or your Muggle relatives while everyone is being moved."

Harry nodded. "I'll be getting us to and from the building myself. I've hired a solicitor that the goblins recommended and arranged for a limousine to transport us there. It's a bank-owned car, and they've put certain wards on it to keep occupants unnoticed and safe. The real worry is after the hearing. If I understand the warding on their house, the moment I'm granted emancipation, they'll break."

"Do they plan to move, Harry?" asked Bill Weasley.

"Yes, and they've even picked out a new house in Pyrford."

"I could give you a good deal on a new, lightweight warding scheme for their new place. It won't feel anything like those heavy blood wards. They just won't be noticed by anyone magical."

Harry smiled. "That'd be great, Bill. Thanks."

"If that's everything, then," said Mrs. Weasley, "I think it's time we all went to bed." Harry allowed himself to be shuffled up the stairs this time, and placed with Ron. He made it a point to give Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny as much information as he could, because he knew that, no matter what Mrs. Weasley might want, they would be standing next to him in this fight.

Idly, as he finally allowed himself to drift off, he wondered when the Doctor would be returning to their time and place.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

 _And that's the rest of the repost. Next chapter is live!_


	4. More Trials and the Decision

**Chapter Four: More Trials and the Decision**

Harry Potter had decided to make an impression at his disciplinary hearing, one that would be remembered and reflected on in the one following. He had put on business robes the color of sage, matching pointed hat, leather Oxfords shined to a mirror finish and his signet ring. He had let the Dursleys know to wear their Sunday best. The car was bringing them and his solicitor to the visitors' entrance, and Harry would be meeting them there.

Both Dudley and Madame Pomfrey would be testifying as witnesses on Harry's behalf, and Vernon and Petunia were there because they were the guardians to both boys. Neither of the adult Muggles were pleased to be put in this situation, but neither were they going to allow their son to go into a magical place alone.

When the car arrived, it was to a small side street with a couple of offices and a pub. The bin was badly overflowing, and there was a horrible smell. The offices had been graffittied over and over again, as had one of the two red phone boxes. The other only had most of its windows painted black.

The first person to emerge from the car when it pulled up was Mr. William Price, Harry's solicitor. He was dressed in business wear similar to Harry, save that his robes were blue with white pinstripes, and he wore a round-topped hat common to solicitors and lawmakers in Wizarding Britain. He was followed by Dudley, then Petunia, and finally Vernon. Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen.

Then he emerged from the phone box with the black glass. "Hello, everyone. I thought it best to stay out of sight until you arrived."

Price nodded. "I agree. Although, I could have sworn there was only one entrance box."

He shrugged. "The other one's not an entrance." He didn't say how he knew, though.

"Ah. Well, everyone, I think we'll have to go down a pair at a time. It's rare to bring people through the visitor's entrance, so it's not large enough for more than two at a time. I'll go first with Dudley here, then Mr. and Mrs., then you come down, Mr. Potter. You hold the receiver above your head and dial 6-2-4-4-2. That's the pass code to get into the Ministry. Answer the prompt with your names and 'Potter disciplinary hearing'. It's a minute down and a minute up, so don't be alarmed. I've instructed the car to stay until we've all gone in, so no one will be alone. That said, are you armed, sir?" That question was aimed to Harry.

"Yes."

"Good. I'd hate to have _that_ lot catch anyone unawares," he said, referring to the Death Eaters. He shook himself. "All right, let's go on down. The less time up here the better."

Once Mr. Price and Dudley had disappeared from view, Harry turned to face away from the box, keeping an eye out for trouble. He wasn't only armed with his wand, either. He'd tucked a small sonic blaster into a bigger-on-the-inside pocket so that he could protect himself without getting into any more trouble. He'd had his tailor spell it as undetectable, because he didn't want anyone knowing he was carrying a gun, not to mention a gun from the fifty-first century.

The box took Petunia and Vernon down next, and then Harry followed without incident. There was an automatic machine that told him to report to the security desk and gave him a visitor's badge to pin to his robe. It said, "Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing." Once inside the building, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, quite happy not to be so visible.

Of course, now he had to be visible in a very different way. He needed to appear confident and lordly without seeming arrogant. The goblins and the Potter had worked with him quite a bit, and Mr. Price had separately coached him on how to appear before the court.

The Dursleys were staring at an unusual fountain in the middle of the atrium, visibly flinching every time someone Apparated in. The fountain depicted a wizard, a witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house elf. It was titled "The Magical Brethren" but all were looking up to the wizard as if he were some kind of savior, the bias of wizard kind quite evident. However, there was also a plaque in the fountain, proclaiming that all money thrown in went to help St. Mungo's Hospital. In full view of his relatives, he tossed in a couple of galleons. After all, St Mungo's had helped Dudley quite a lot.

Now that they were all present, Mr. Price said, "This way, everyone." He led them through the atrium to the security desk, where a rather bored looking wizard scanned them and checked Harry and Mr. Price's wands. Harry was very glad that the scan didn't pick up the blaster, but he didn't let it show on his face.

When the elevator, which was an old fashioned brass affair, opened to let them in, an owl winged through the air to land on Mr. Price's shoulder. Vernon shuddered, but the owl simply delivered his message and left. Mr. Price, however, was in an instant snit. "You were right to have all Ministry correspondence diverted to me, Mr. Potter. Your hearing has been moved up to five minutes from now in Courtroom 10. That's where they held the Death Eater trials! Why would they do that for a simple case of underage magic?"

"I don't know, but we need to alert Madame Pomfrey."

Price's eyes got wide. "Right." She was a witness for the defense but she wouldn't be arriving for another three hours if they didn't alert her. He whipped around to the rows of public floos and found one that was not in use. He firecalled the Hogwarts infirmary, and let Madame Pomfrey know about the change. She actually stepped through with them. Then they all squeezed into the lift and headed downward. The doors opened onto a dungeon-like corridor and the voice in the lift said, "Department of Mysteries."

"All right, leg it to that stairwell at the end," said Mr. Price. "I'm going to have someone's ears for this!"

Madame Pomfrey snarked, "Not if I get to them first! This boy was attacked by two Dementors not ten days ago, and he's being made to run for their rushing the deadline!"

"That's a fair point," said Harry. "Everyone slow down. There's no point in breaking our necks on a stair case because they want to embarrass me."

Upon leaving the stairwell, Mr. Price led them down dark corridors designed to scare to a large, grimy door with a huge iron lock and a heavy black handle. They straightened their clothes and hair before coming into the large dungeon beyond that door.

Harry fought to keep the shock of recognition from his face. This was the very same dungeon that he had seen in Dumbledore's pensive, where the Lestranges had been sentenced to life in Azkaban Prison for the use of Unforgiveables. This was where they sentenced Death Eaters. And they were holding a simple hearing for underage magic here? Someone wanted him intimidated. He would not satisfy them.

A cold voice echoed through the room. "You are late."

"Yes, well I'm afraid your owl did not reach us until we were already here in the Ministry. Poor dear must have had to double back when we arrived early for the prior scheduled time." Mr. Price's voice was equally cold, following Harry's lead.

Silence fell for a moment. "Very well. Take your seat, Mr. Potter."

Harry eyed the chair. It had chains on the arms, chains he had seen reach up and grab whoever sat there. But he took the seat, giving no impression that it bothered him, even when the chains jerked a little. Mr. Price conjured a chair for himself, one each for the Dursleys and Madame Pomfrey, and an extra off to the side to use as a witness stand. He also conjured a table in front of Harry and himself to use for separation and for taking and holding notes.

There was a rumble of surprise from the assembled people. They all wore purple robes with a large "W" embroidered on them. The person who had spoken was none other than Minister Cornelius Fudge. "Are you ready?" He asked down the row.

"Yes, sir," came an eager voice, one Harry recognized. Sure enough, Percy Weasley was there at a small desk, parchment in front and quill in hand.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underaged Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter at Little Whinging Park in Surrey.

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley-"

Here Mr. Price interrupted the Minister. "William Reginald Price, Legal Advocate to Harry Potter; witnesses for the defense; Poppy Amanda Pomfrey, Registered Mediwitch and Dudley Dursley."

The members of the Wizengamot murmured at the interruption, but Fudge tried to keep composure. "And these other two people?"

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley, parents to Dudley and guardians to Mr. Potter. They are here only in that capacity, as is their legal right and responsibility."

Fudge glared at him. "Yes, yes. Moving on, then. The charges are as follows: that he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the eighth at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes and offence under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of underaged Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards Statute of Secrecy.

"You are Harry James Potter of number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said over his parchment.

"Yes."

"You received an official warning for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, I did, but-"

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the eighth of August?"

"Yes, but-

"Knowing that you are not-"

"Pardon me, Minister," said Mr. Price, "But since you have taken it upon yourself to call in the full Wizengamot for a simple matter of underage sorcery, even with the added and superfluous charge of breaching secrecy, I'm sure they'd like to hear more from my client than 'Yes, but'. Please allow him to actually give you a full answer to your questions." He paused, then turned to Percy. "Will the Court Scribe please repeat the Minister's second question?"

Percy dutifully repeated the question about the warning from three years ago, then Mr. Price motioned to Harry to answer more fully. "I did receive the notice, but what Madame Hopkirk had no way of knowing was that there was a house elf visiting me, and it was he who did the magic, not I."

"And on the night in question? Did you do what you are being accused of?"

"I did conjure my Patronus, because two Dementors came into the park and attacked Dudley. My cousin and I haven't always got on, but I can't imagine he'd ever deserve having his soul removed!"

"How did you know how to produce a Patronus, Mr. Potter?"

"Because they were sent to the school looking for Sirius Black when I was in third year. I had a very bad reaction to them, so I asked my professor in Defense Against the Dark Arts to help me."

The witch on Fudge's left, the one with the monocle, interrupted before Fudge could. "You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?"

"Yes, because if I hadn't, they'd have Kissed him."

"I mean to say, it was a Corporeal Patronus?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"It was more than vapor or smoke?"

He smiled. Good. Someone was actually interested in the story, not in just convicting him. "It was a stag. It's _always_ a stag."

"Always?" she continued. "You've produced a Patronus before?"

"As I said, since third year."

"Impressive. Most impressive."

"Thank you, Madame."

Fudge finally got a word in again. "It's not a question of how impressive the magic was! If anything that makes it worse! In full view of a Muggle, no less!"

This time Harry interrupted. "And if you were standing on the Muggle side of King's Cross station and a Dementor decided to have your soul for lunch, would you not have your wand out in an instant?"

"Yes, and why were there Dementors in Little Whinging, Minister?"

"There's no proof that there were any! And while I'm sure you've rehearsed your story quite well-"

Mr. Price interrupted him again. "Of course there's proof. That _is_ why Mr. Dursley and Madame Pomfrey have been summoned, after all."

Fudge tried to wave them off. "We don't have time for more taradiddles. I want this dealt with quickly-"

"Ah, but this is not only about what you want. Mr. Potter has a right to defend himself, both in the real world and in this court room."

Murmurs of assent ran through the Wizengamot, but there were also grumbles, and Harry couldn't tell who was who with the way they were all grouped together.

Fudge sighed. "Oh, very well. Get on with it then."

Mr. Price turned to Dudley. "Dudley Dursley, please take the witness stand."

Dudley nodded nervously, shooting looks at his parents and up at the assembled wizards and witches. He had a twitch now, and he scared easily. It made Harry think about Sirius, knowing he'd spent twelve years surrounded by those demons.

Dudley sat in the witness's chair and Mr. Price asked him, "Dudley, in your own words, please tell us what happened on the night of August eighth?"

The large blonde boy took a shaky breath, then said, "I was just out in the park. I was going to meet Pierce and the boys for some fun. But then it started getting cold, as if it were in the middle of winter or something. I felt sadder and sadder, and then I was so sad it started to hurt. I couldn't move, and I screamed. I thought I'd die of that cold and sadness."

For a moment, Dudley couldn't talk, but then he seemed to shake himself, and was able to continue. "Then there was a white light, and it lifted most of the cold away, except what was clinging to me. I never thought I'd be warm again. But there was Harry, all of a sudden. He was giving me chocolate, telling me to eat it. It made me feel a little better, but I was still so cold I couldn't think. Then this lady over here came," he indicated Madame Pomfrey. "I think she's a nurse or something. She took me to that magical hospital, and brought in Mum and Dad."

Mr. Price nodded. "Thank you, Dudley. You can sit back with your parents now." Then he turned to Madame Pomfrey. "Madame if you would replace him, please?" Once everyone was seated again, and the murmuring of the assembly had gone down, he asked her, "Would you please tell us in your own words what happened on August eighth?"

She nodded. "Of course. I was working in the school potions lab with Professor Snape, stocking for the coming school year. We were interrupted by a Patronus message declaring that there was a Dementor victim in Little Whinging Park in Surrey."

Price asked her, "What form did the Patronus take?"

"That of a two-point stag. Training dictates that you do not question the message, only respond to the emergency, so I made sure that Professor Snape had everything in hand with the brewing and ran for the Apparation point with my mediwitch bag. From there I Apparated to the park. There I found a portly young man being tended to by Mr. Potter. He was feeding him chocolate, which is appropriate first aid for a Dementor attack, but it wasn't sufficient. The boy was still severely depressed, and for a while, I thought he'd been Kissed." That declaration sent a rumble through the Wizengamot, and Price let it rumble. The last time Dementors had Kissed a Muggle had been during the first war with Voldemort.

When they quieted, she continued. "I ran a diagnostic as quickly as I could, and I was glad to see that, while there was some light fraying on the boy's soul, it was yet intact."

Price asked her, "Is there anything else magical that will cause that kind of effect? In your medical opinion, I mean?"

"Some psychological conditions can cause this, but nothing else will magically produce that specific effect. It is signatory of Dementors alone."

Before minister Fudge could say anything, the witch with the monocle said, "I'm issuing a Wizengamot Summons for all Azkaban records for the second, three days before and three days after. I want to know why there were two Dementors in Surrey that day, and that they returned to the island. After all," and here she glared at Fudge, "we all know that the Dementors are _completely_ under Ministry control, don't we."

Fudge stared at her. "What are you implying, Madame Bones?"

"Either you are wrong, you are lying, or someone sent a pair of Dementors into Surrey. Either way I'll have the answer in an hour, and if you're responsible for this, your job in a fortnight." She turned to the court room. "In this matter, the evidence presented is quite enough. Mr. Potter acted to save a life, and he pulled in help when it was plain he could not handle the matter on his own. This shows both bravery and sense, and it is my opinion that he should be commended. He will not be expelled, and all charges are dropped. Members of the Wizengamot, thank you for your time. It is no longer required. Dursley family, Madame Pomfrey, Mr. Price, thank you for your assistance to the court. We are adjourned."

The Minister stormed out, quickly followed by the woman he'd identified at the beginning as Dolores Umbridge and Percy. The Dursleys left ahead of Harry as quickly as they could, none of them wanting to remain any longer than was necessary. Madame Pomfrey followed behind him and Mr. Price brought up the rear.

Just outside, Harry was surprised to see Arthur Weasley, standing nervously. "Harry!" he shouted. "How did it go?"

Harry allowed a smile. "Cleared of all charges. Amelia Bones is going after the Minister to find out why there were Dementors in Surrey. She was _not_ happy, and she threatened his job, too."

Arthur smiled widely. "Wonderful, Harry! Simply wonderful! Well, I'll leave you to your day. I've got a regurgitating toilet to deal with. Congratulations on your victory!"

Harry shook his head fondly as Mr. Weasley headed back up the stairs. Petunia asked him, "Is that the person you'll be looking to after your emancipation?"

He nodded. "One of them, yes. I'd ask him to take me in, but he's still got four out of seven of his own children at home."

She said, "Will that man, that Fudge character, be part of the emancipation hearing?"

Harry frowned. "Good question. Mr. Price?"

Price was also frowning. "He shouldn't be. This is a much lower-level event than should be part of the Minister's Office, but so is a hearing on underaged magic. The only ones who _should_ be part of it are a representative from the Office of Family Welfare, an officer of the Family Court, and Headmistress McGonagall. But I doubt the Minister is going to keep his nose out, and until and unless Madame Bones is able to make good on her threat, we can't stop that."

Harry nodded. "All right. I know Lucius Malfoy intends to make a bid for custody. I'm sure a few other Death Eater families will toss their hats in the ring, as well, all looking good on paper because they are well off and have kids my age, or thereabouts. I shall have to be very convincing that I am fit to be emancipated. And I don't think I should mention Voldemort as a reason to keep my freedom." He shook his head. "No, if the court refuses to allow my emancipation legally, I'll have to take it." He looked at Petunia and Vernon. "We should make sure you get moved tonight. I have a friend who can help us, but I'll warn you; he's not human."

Petunia narrowed her eyes at him. "You're worried."

He shrugged. "Frankly, I'm worried we'll be ambushed outside the building, but maybe I'm being paranoid."

Mr. Price said, "It's that kind of paranoia that keeps you alive."

He nodded. "All right. Mr. Price, if you wouldn't mind, it's better if you leave ahead of us. I have a friend here and no one will think twice of me visiting him, so we'll go up to his office and make our escape from there."

They waited, giving Mr. Price a bit of a lead as he ran up the stairs, then followed, making their way to the lift. They all got on, and Harry started listening to the voice, which told what departments were on which floor. He was looking for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, and Arthur Weasley. They finally reached them at the ? floor, and Harry asked after the man at the first desk they saw.

Arthur was just coming back out of his office, having stopped for his coat so that he could go and deal with the regurgitating toilet. Harry stopped him, taking his arm and turning him back toward his office as he spoke, playing it up with a wide, excited smile. "Mr. Weasley! I promised to introduce you to my Aunt and Uncle! Can we go into your office?" Then he whispered, "I'm afraid we're being watched, and I've got to get them out of here safely."

Once in the office, Arthur pulled out his wand and cast a silencing ward. "There, now no one can hear us. What's your plan, Harry?"

"You and your family have been great friends to me, Mr. Weasley, so I'm going out on a limb here and trusting you. An ancestor of mine was not from this world, and he left me a form of transportation that's more advanced than anything the Muggles have. I also have Dad's Invisibility Cloak, which I can use to get out of here to get that transport. She can get in here, and I can take them out in her, but I've got to move quickly. Can I Floo from here to the Atrium?"

Vernon said, "Now see here, boy-"

"Vernon, I'm trying to keep you safe. I know traveling in an alien vessel was not on your list of things to do today, but that was before I realized this place was so bottlenecked, with you three only having one way out of the building. Believe me, the TARDIS will get you out of here and back home much faster than anything else we could have done short of Apparation, and it's safe, where Apparation with non-magicals is deadly dangerous." Harry turned back to Arthur. "Can it be done?"

But sadly, Arthur said, "No, I'm sorry. This fireplace is only an illusion, so it has no floo. There is an old stairwell further down this hall, and it does come out in the Atrium, so you could reach the Visitor's entrance from there. But trying to dodge through that crowd while invisible still seems, well, dodgy."

Then Dudley surprised everyone. "Harry, your ship can just appear where you want it to, so it's only a matter of getting to it, right?" Harry nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "Then why doesn't Mr. Weasley Apa-rate you to the ship. It wouldn't hurt you like it would us, would it?"

Harry broke into a broad grin. "Brilliant, D. Mr. Weasley?"

Arthur said, "Yes, that's a marvelous idea! Good job, Dudley! Well Harry, just grab hold of my arm. Where is this-um-"

"TARDIS."

"Tahdis."

"Close enough. She's right next to the visitor's entrance, the second phone box." Arthur nodded, and Harry grabbed his arm. For a moment he felt like he was being squeezed through a tube of toothpaste, then he was suddenly standing in the alley. That was when the trouble started.

The moment Harry and Arthur rematerialized, two masked men on brooms started firing spells at them. Arthur cast a broad shield, but it was hastily cast and fizzled under the onslaught. Harry took out his sonic blaster, and with the aim of someone with very good hand-eye coordination, he shot the twig ends off of their brooms.

A shocked Arthur shouted, "What was that!?" as the two men fell screaming out of the air, far more concerned with not dying from the fall than shooting at them now. "What was that!?"

"Later!" He got out his key and got the door to the TARDIS opened as fast as he could. "Get in!" Arthur dashed past him, still trying to get a look at the gun, but Harry _really_ didn't want to wait around if those Death Eaters didn't break bones on the concrete.

Once the door was closed, he could relax, having been assured by the Potter that nothing could get through those doors short of a Dalek TARDIS Breaker or a significant stellar event, such as a supernova, at point blank range. Not even Avada Kedavera had enough power for that, and though the TARDIS was alive, the curse wouldn't be able to reach her soul because the ship was multidimensional.

He didn't have much time to answer Arthur's questions, but the man deserved an answer. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the gun, but I'm really a very good shot, and I couldn't risk going unarmed. I've got my wand, but they're just waiting for me to use it outside of school again."

Arthur was still quite upset, though. "That's not even a normal Muggle gun, is it?

Harry smiled a little. "Look around you. My ancestor was not some Muggle. I got this out of one of the storage rooms in here. I spent three days making sure I knew how to use it and could hit what I was aiming at."

"Three days? But-"

"Didn't I tell you?" Harry threw a couple of levers and danced around to the other side of the console, where he pushed a few buttons and spun a knob forward, backward and forward again. "She also travels in time." And with that he jumped to another of the six stations and threw a large lever.

The Time Rotor whirred to life, and Arthur had to grab the railing as the ship lurched just a bit. Harry looked at him apologetically, and said, "Sorry, still learning to drive her, though in my devense, TARDISes have six stations because they were meant to have six pilots."

He saw Arthur staring at him. "Look, I promise I'll bring you up to speed, but we've got to get the Dursleys back to Privet Drive."

Arthur nodded. "All right. I'll assume you don't want anyone else knowing about your Tahdis?"

He nodded. "Only those who already do. That's Remus, Sirius, Hermione, and your four youngest. I wouldn't ask you to keep secrets from your wife, but-"

Arthur held up a hand. "I know. She'd try to stop you. She's extremely uncomfortable with her children being anywhere near the war that's brewing, and she's always had a motherly eye toward you and Hermione. Her brothers, Fabian and Gideon Prewitt were twins like Fred and George, and they were killed about six months before your parents, right in front of her. They were eighteen."

"I understand. And I don't particularly care for the gun, just to reassure you. I'm only carrying it until the emancipation is over. Then I'll legally be able to use my wand, and it can go back into storage."

Arthur visibly relaxed. "All right. Let's go and get the Dursleys home, shall we?"

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

The next day's hearing was much calmer. The Minister tried to butt in, but he was told in no uncertain terms that this was not a matter under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic, but the Family Division of the High Court's Subdivision for Magical Children. He was only allowed to speak to the Court as a courtesy to his office, and his opinion had no legal bearing. Harry had been right about the Death Eater families showing up to bid for custody, but in light of Harry's apparent ability to function as an adult and his vast personal wealth, as well as the agreement of his current guardians, the Court had no problem emancipating Harry and, in accordance with his adult status, removing the Trace from his wand.

The Minister stopped him on his way out. "What will you be doing with your new-found freedom, then, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "For now, I'm still a student. I want to at least get my OWLs. But I may take a break next year and get my Muggle education caught up. Or I may decide to take up the seat that has been left vacant in the Wizengamot for my family. Or I may decide to leave and explore the world. I have time to make that decision. I'm a legal adult now, but I'm still young, and those choices have time to be explored. Now, I must have a few words with my retainer, if you'll excuse me."

Leaving the Minister sputtering, he carefully did not grin, though he was bursting to do so. He went back to the alcove where his family were contemplating a life without the fear of magic. He still had to get them to their new house, but Dobby had carefully set everything up for them while they were in court, and he'd set the warding scheme with Bill Weasley last night. It was move-in ready, and the TARDIS was in the building, so they wouldn't have the mad dash they had the last time. He spoke to Mr. Price. "I want to thank you for everything you've done for us. This really was a mess, and I appreciate your help."

"Not at all, Lord Potter. It's been a pleasure, honestly, and you'll be an asset to whatever profession you choose." He noticed something over Harry's left shoulder. "Lord Malfoy's coming to speak with you. I'd keep it short if I were you, and get the Dursleys out of here as soon as possible." In a louder voice, he said, "Well, good luck to you, Lord Potter. Again, it's been a pleasure. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, Dudley, good luck and farewell." He tipped his hat at the lot of them and walked away.

Lucius Malfoy approached them, a calm look and a polite smile on his face. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter, and welcome to adulthood."

"Thank you."

"I wonder if you have plans to take your family's seat in the Wizengamot, now that you've been granted your majority by the Court?"

He shook his head. "Not this year, at least. I do believe that the seat should be filled, but I have to decide who I want to have my proxy. There are a few names I'm considering, and I mean to decide by the first of the year."

Lucius casually asked, "And who are you considering?"

Harry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, I think I'll keep that under my hat for now. I'd hate for them to wake up with a bad case of dead."

Lucius genuinely laughed at that. "Well, at least you're being intelligent about it. I look forward to watching your career, Mr. Potter. It should be entertaining, if nothing else. Have a good year." And with that he walked away, still chuckling.

Harry watched him go, then said, "Let's go. Dobby should have the house settled by now, and be out of there, so you won't even have to see him." They went down the hall in the opposite direction from Lucius, and then ducked into an unused office, a door that normally didn't exist. That was where the TARDIS was hiding today. He smiled as he entered his magnificent timeship and moved to the console. He'd preset the coordinates that morning when they arrived, so he just had to get her moving, and he quickly did so. The empty office disappeared, and several miles away in Pyrford a lovely red phone box appeared on the walkway. The four of them left the box and Harry looked where he knew the house to be, but all he saw was a lot with trees and grass. Good.

"Well, the wards are working. I don't see the house, and no other wizard ever will either. Not even owls should be able to find it. I want you to have this one thing, though." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gilded picture frame, with a photo of a young family in it. "I had this picture stilled, so it'll never move. I just thought, now that everything was said and done, you might want a small reminder of your sister and her family." It was a copy of a picture that had been taken not long after he was born, with his mother and father holding their happy baby and smiling. He handed the memento to Petunia.

She looked at it, the strangest expression on her face. But she nodded. "Good luck, Harry Potter. I hope you win your war."

Harry shook his head, turning back to his TARDIS. "No one wins in war. I can only hope that me and mine survive it."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Harry sat on the bench seat, holding onto a book titled _The Dangerous Wonder_. It described the machine that he would be using to become a Time Lord. It was called simply an Activator, and it was actually the Potter's own invention. Knowing his descendants would mostly be human, he wanted to provide them with a way to access the buried heritage of Gallifrey should they ever choose it, so he'd done a lot of research and had built the Activator.

It was based on the Chameleon Arch, in an odd hybridization with the Looms of Gallifrey, and it would build from his existing genetic structure a Time Lord body. The book warned that, as with regeneration, this would be a complete cellular rewrite, but he would not change his current face or personality much. Any defects would be corrected, and his mind would be so much bigger, but he'd still be himself. Also, as with regeneration, it was going to hurt, like the Cruciatus Curse, like dying.

But he'd made his decision. He was going to do this.

As if that decision had summoned him, there was a knock at the door to Harry's TARDIS and the monitor showed him that it was the Doctor. He went to let him in, and they walked back to the bench seat that ran in a half-circle behind the console. Harry sat with his legs crossed, and the Doctor straddled it to face him. "I got your message."

"I haven't sent one."

"You will do, then. Told me when and where to come. And why." Harry nodded and handed the book to the Doctor. He literally flipped through it, but Harry knew he had read every word. "Nasty, but it'll work. The decision is still yours, though. Are you sure?"

"I've never had a life of my own, Doctor. No real choices, just inescapable destiny. That's what I'm changing. I'm taking control of my life. But I'm glad you're here. I didn't want to do this alone and the others would freak out when they found out what this will do."

"Freaking out a little yourself?"

"Yeah."

"You have time, you know. This _is_ a time machine."

But Harry shook his head. "I've made the decision, and I'd rather be done with this as quickly as possible."

"All right then." The Doctor stood. "Where's the machine, Potter?" he asked the portrait hanging on the second-floor wall.

The Potter quietly said, "It's in the infirmary. Good luck, Harry."

The infirmary was quite close, and when they walked through the doors, the Activator was already set up. It seemed that the TARDIS was very ready to be bonded to a Time Lord again, so she was helping as much as she could. The Doctor also noticed that there was a door to the side that was simply labeled 000, and he nodded. The Zero room would be the best place for Harry to recover once the transformation was complete. It would prevent any version of regeneration sickness, and remove all outside stressors from the equation.

Harry sat on the machine's stool, almost looking like a little child because it was so large and complicated. The Doctor strapped him into the contraption, attaching diodes around his head, chest, abdomen, and upper and lower limbs. He took Harry's glasses off and placed them on a table to the side where they wouldn't be damaged, and put a mouth guard between his jaws to keep him from breaking any teeth. That precaution, of all of the preparations, caused him to think about the pain that was coming, and he shivered.

"Last chance to back out, Harry," he said gently. "Everything's ready, and all I have to do is push the button." He knew what was coming. He'd used the Chameleon Arch, and this thing was basically a reversed version of it. He hated to think of this young man going through that, but it was his decision, and his alone.

But Harry took a deep breath through his nose and just nodded. The Doctor pushed the button that turned on the machine, and it began its gruesome work. Harry Potter spent the next hour and a half screaming.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

 _Note: To the Girl Who Slept, in my story, the McGonagalls are one of the Noble Houses, which gave her the right to be there, and she wanted to support Harry._

 _I hope everyone is enjoying getting caught up with this story. Reviews are welcome and sought after!_


	5. Mint Condition

**Chapter Five: Mint Condition**

 _*Galleons 8,000 = £40,000 = $49,911_

The Boy didn't know where he was, but it was comfortable in many ways, having no sound, sensation or gravity to pull him in any direction. It was peaceful but he felt like there was something wrong with it. He should have been doing something, working on something. But the Boy couldn't remember just yet what that thing was, so he pondered instead what this place was.

Gradually, over an indeterminate amount of time, things started to settle in his mind. First, that he was Harry, and second, that he was new. He had been something else before, and now he was a new thing, or an old thing that had been made new. A thing. A Time Lord?

A tinkling sound over a calm hum whispered across his mind. That was a different thing, a thing he knew, but had never heard before. _TARDIS_ , his mind whispered. He grinned. She was laughing at him, but not in a mean way. She thought his confusion was funny, but she gently assured him that it would pass.

 _What is this place?_

 _Zero._ An equation fluttered across his mind, with a hundred variables all equal to zero.

 _Zero gravity. But not zero energy. There's light, and warmth._

 _Zero sound. Zero touch. Two minds, in you and me. The one outside worries, asks if you are well yet. But it takes as long as it takes. He knows this. He, too, is a Time Lord._

Harry's brain took a while longer to rearrange itself, and he couldn't have said how long it took, but finally his life resettled and reopened in his head and he remembered who he was, as well as the events that had led him here. And then his mind opened, and he was able to start cataloguing all the differences. Two hearts, two livers, three kidneys, extrapulmonary oxygenation, and much, much greater mental capacity. He also sensed the worrying Doctor just outside the Zero room. Then he sensed surprise, followed by relief and happiness.

Then a hole opened in the white expanse of the Zero room; a door-shaped hole. The Doctor was sticking his head around the jam of the door, and waving him toward it. But how was he to move without gravity?

Ah! He twisted himself so that he was facing in the opposite direction, took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. That was enough force to overcome his inertia and start him moving toward the door. When he got close enough, the Doctor grabbed his arm and helped him to orient to the floor outside before pulling him out of the anti-gravity field.

As Harry re-entered reality, the world seemed to start moving, where everything had seemed stationary before he changed his nature. His face must have revealed it, because the Doctor said, "You're feeling the turn of the Earth, now, and its rotation around the sun. Planets, especially inhabited ones, are massive space-time sinks, full of constantly shifting events. That's why a planet is usually the first thing a young Time Lord can sense. Once you look into the Vortex, that sense will sharpen, but I think we should let you get settled in first."

"Sounds good to me." Harry moved to adjust his glasses out of habit, only to find that they weren't on his face. But he could see just fine. "Well that's an improvement."

"Nor is it the only one. Let's go and find your library and-wait. First let's head for the kitchen. This kind of transformation leaves you with an energy deficit. You're probably famished!"

At the mention of food, Harry's stomach growled, emphasizing the Doctor's point. "Right. Treacle!" The thought of eating a good treacle made his mouth water. "Let's go!" And with that, he was off to the kitchen. The Doctor followed him in and he started looking through the refrigerator for the left-over treacle tart he knew was in there. He pulled it out, along with the brazed roast he'd finished cooking last night for today's sandwiches, then got out some olive mayonnaise, Swiss cheese, sliced tomatoes, and leaf lettuce. The bread was on the bread board under a cloche. "You want a sandwich, too?"

"Don't mind if I do." He started the kettle for tea while Harry worked on preparing their lunch.

Harry ended up eating three sandwiches and all but one slice of the tart, which he gave to the Doctor. It was a lot for him, but he just felt like he couldn't get enough for a little while. The Doctor had nothing but compliments for the food. Harry just shrugged it off, but the other Time Lord wanted to know where he learned how to cook. "I've been cooking since I was tall enough to reach everything on the counter. Really, even though Aunt Petunia was nasty about it, I'm quite glad she taught me how to cook. I'd hate to have to eat what some of my friends might come up with. Ron would probably poison himself if he tried to cook."

Since that situation had been resolved, the Doctor didn't say anything else about Harry's abusive childhood. "Right. Well, let me give you an idea of what we're going to be doing over the next few months. I know you have other things that need doing, but you do have a time machine, so I don't want you to worry about that part. We'll take as much time as you need so that you learn everything you absolutely must know, then get you back into your life as if you'd never left it. You'll be able to continue private study in any area you'd like for as long as you'd like, because you now have all the time in the universe, but there are some things I want to make sure you're solid on before I leave you to your own devices."

He nodded, sipping on his tea. "So have you decided to take a hand in my education, then?"

"A bit. There's more to being a Time Lord than biology, and you still need to learn about that, as well. But your ability to absorb and retain information is now so far above that of a human, you'll get through the material in no time at all."

"Then let's get started."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Harry first learned from the Doctor what no school teacher had ever been able to teach him, and that was a love of learning. Maybe it was the fact that he was no longer the last of the Time Lords that made him so enthusiastic over the basics, but Harry thought he could have happily learned how to grow toadstools from the man.

He got Harry caught up on what he should have learned in Muggle school all the way through a Baccalaureate degree in Liberal Arts, with focus studies in quantum mechanics and temporal physics. Then he taught him how to use his new physiology, including fine control of his body's systems, his respiratory bypass, and his telepathy. Harry had a pretty good handle on communicating with his TARDIS, but he learned from the Doctor how to keep out intruders and how to do passive scans. He also learned the ethics of telepathy, the forty-three thousand statutes of the Shadow Proclamation, a quick survey of the inhabited systems of Mutter's Spiral Galaxy (the Milky Way to human astronomy), and the importance of not letting the Doctor run off at the mouth.

He spent a month with a group of Shaolin monks in the twelfth century learning Kung Fu, and a month about five million years ago learning what the Doctor called Venusian Aikido, but which was actually called Waruishinto by the Venusian people. He learned several different kinds of swords, which would give him something to defend himself with that was neither a wand nor a gun, and bought some quality blades along the way. He even spelled them to prevent brakeage and rust. He learned strategy and chess from the Doctor himself, because the Doctor recognized a sad truth about Harry's life. Someone had made a prophesy, and a prophesy could cause a fixed point. "You can rewrite history," he'd told his young student, "but not once you've read it."

Thankfully, the Seer who'd produced that prophesy had not revealed the outcome, keeping it uncertain. The confrontation it described had to take place, but there was no reason to assume that either combatant was the victor, and if Harry's arsenal of skills was increased enough, he could best his enemy with as little peripheral bloodshed as possible.

The Doctor also took Harry to a little-known planet on the other side of the galaxy that had a rift much like the Untempered Schism that had once existed on Gallifrey, a place where the Time Vortex was visible. No sentient life had ever evolved on this planet, so the Time Lords had never tried to wipe it out, and had even used it as a vacation spot from time to time. There Harry looked into the Schism, and what he saw made him run as fast and as far as he could. But the experience awoke his temporal awareness even further and triggered his ability to regenerate, ensuring that, should Voldemort succeed in killing him, he would still survive it.

He'd been gone for nearly a year, though it was hard to tell exactly. His education now as well founded as it could be, it was time for Harry Potter to return to his own timeline. As he piloted his TARDIS through the Vortex, having left that skill to the Potter to teach him once he realized what a bad driver the Doctor was, he smirked to himself. He had a surprise for the wizarding world.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Ottery St. Catchpole was a quiet little Muggle town, but several wizarding families lived in the area, including the Weasleys. They noticed the new house being built on the adjoining property, but other than giving their children a lecture about not being noticed by the Muggles, they didn't pay the new construction much mind. But they noticed when the contractors left and the new house had been finished and landscaped that a huge planting of holly trees sprung up and matured along the fence line overnight.

Then Bill told them he'd been contracted by Gringott's to ward the property, and the warding scheme was intense. You could see the house, no matter your magical persuasion, but you'd never think twice about it unless you knew who lived there and knew that they were living there, and there were some very nasty defensive wards, as well. It was a wizard living next door, and one he said they knew, but his own warding prevented him from telling them the name.

It was cinched when Hedwig delivered an invitation for the entire family to tea. Harry Potter had moved in next door. He warned them not to just rush over, though, because of the wards. He was connected to the Floo Network, so they should just come to the house that way. He was calling it Base One, and though they wondered why he would give his home such a name, that wasn't going to stop them from Flooing in at the appointed hour.

Harry's Floo had a cleaning charm on it, a courtesy to whomever might use it so they weren't covered in soot while visiting his home. They all looked around as they came through the fireplace. The house was decorated in a modern style, with clean lines and bold colors. The sitting room held a massive sectional leather sofa and two recliners, with a central table made from English oak and inlayed with the Potter Family Crest in mahogany. The floors were all hardwood, and wizarding photos graced the walls.

Harry called out to them from the right, where the kitchen was open to the sitting room. It was bright and airy, with modern appliances in lieu of a smoky hearth and dark bricks. He was standing next to the stove turning the fire under the kettle to low to keep it from screaming. The kitchen table was big enough to seat twenty, but he didn't have a separate dining room, preferring to keep everything in a more family atmosphere.

"Come on in, everyone. I'm still expecting a few people from Sirius's place. Please do not use your wands around the electronics. I'm powering the generator with magic so that I didn't have to run wires to the house, but active magic can still fry individual machines, like the fridge or the telly. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, could I have a word with the both of you in the other room before we get started? Fred, George, I've put a detection ward related to the Priori Incantatum across the entire house, so I'll know if either of you do anything to my stuff."

Arthur chuckled at that as Harry led them down a short corridor to a guest bedroom. He then put up a silencing ward and summoned the Extendable Ear he caught trying to sneak under the door and pocketed it, grinning.

Mrs. Weasley asked him, "What's this about, Harry?"

"Well, I'm here to correct an error, Mrs. Weasley. I asked something very selfish of your husband, that he keep a secret from you. That wasn't fair to either of you, and I wanted to apologize." It struck her that he wasn't acting fidgety or nervous, like a child caught doing something they knew they shouldn't. He was acting like a young man willing to accept the consequences of his actions. He looked her in the eye as he spoke, and that made her listen. "Ever since the disciplinary hearing up until the emancipation hearing, I carried a gun."

Mrs. Weasley was shocked. "You what!?"

"Yes. It's now been returned to its storage compartment, which is in a place I'll show you later, but I could not be unarmed. I can legally use my wand, now, but with the Minister actively working against me, I felt I had no choice."

"And it's a good thing he did, too, Molly," said Arthur. "Two Death Eaters were waiting to pick off him and his family as they left the Ministry." Mrs. Weasley went back to looking shocked instead of furious. "He didn't even shoot them! He shot out their brooms!"

The Weasley Matriarch sputtered a bit, then visibly took hold of herself, calmed a little, then said, "Is it safely secured now?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. It's in a password protected store room, and that room's not in the house, but the garage."

"All right." She nodded to herself, calming even further. "I understand. It was necessary." She sighed. "I hate that you're being dragged into this conflict, Harry."

"I know. But it could never have been any other way. When he marked me, he set it up where I would always be the only one who could defeat him, and because of that he's always going to come after me. He has no more choice in that than I do now."

"What do you mean?"

"The-"

"HARRY!" The shout came from Sirius, and was loud enough to penetrate the silencing ward.

Harry grinned and dropped the ward. "I'm telling everyone at dinner anyway. Come on." He opened the door and left the room. "Sirius, I'm getting you a muzzle, honestly!"

"Telling everyone?" Mrs. Weasley asked with consternation. All her children except Percy were at that table, and she didn't want them involved in this war! But Harry was already out in the corridor, and didn't hear her.

Sirius just stuck his tongue out at him. "Serves you right for hiding out in your own house. Great place, by the way!"

"Wasn't hiding out. All right, everyone to the table. I've got a few things to explain, and I don't want anyone starving to death while I do it."

Hermione and Remus were already sitting at the table. Remus asked, "Does it have something to do with the reason you smell so much different?"

Harry smiled gently at him. "I'm afraid so."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

The Doctor's TARDIS landed in the abandoned halls of the ancient castle in an alcove just past the Headmistress's office. He exited the box, looking both ways to make sure he wouldn't run into anyone, then went to stand in front of the gargoyle. He scanned the statue with his sonic, ever curious about magic since he'd met Harry Potter and his wonderful friends, then said, "I have an appointment to speak with the Headmistress."

The statue jumped out of the way as if it were a living organism. The muscles could even be seen moving under the stone skin. "That is just fascinating!" The gargoyle grinned at him, and made a shooing motion with his paw. "Right. Don't want to be late." He straightened his bow tie and climbed the stairs that the gargoyle was guarding. At the top of the stairs was a door, and he knocked on it three times.

A female Scottish brogue answered him, "Come in, please."

He opened the door by pushing it, and took a look around the office. It had a tall ceiling, several well organized shelves of various magical bits and bobs, and two walls full of portraits, presumably former Headmasters of the school, that moved like Harry's portrait of the Potter. In the back of the room was a desk surrounded by bookshelves, and behind that desk was an older-looking woman with jet black hair pulled into a severe bun on the back of her head. This was Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School.

She stood from her place behind the desk and walked around it, holding her hand out in greeting. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Doctor Chesterton. I must admit that your offer quite intrigued me when I read it. What inspired you to make it?"

"A few things, not the least of which are the historically abysmal OWL and NEWT scores in Magical History, and the inconsistency in certain other subjects. I know that you've already had that-person-Umbridge foisted on you in the area of Defense, but create a new class with a teacher already attached, and they won't be able to do anything about it."

"Yes. I was horrified when the Ministry pushed that toad into my school. I'd like to blame my predecessor, but he wouldn't have willingly allowed this, either." She sighed. "What else?"

"I've something of a vested interest in one of your students. You see, I've been tutoring him in his non-magical studies, and I noticed some rather severe gaps in his education. I know that this is a school for magic, but these children must go on to live their lives in the real world. Should they not be taught some basic understanding of how it works?"

She grinned at him, but it was somewhat pained. "I'd agree with you if it wouldn't get me fired and the school shut down or run by that hag."

"Ah. I do despise politics."

"That makes two of us. But the idea that magic makes one person better than another is quite pervasive, especially at the so-called pinnacle of our society, and they want it taught in this school. Plus Minister Fudge believes his power is in jeopardy."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "It's a system I've fought in many places."

She squinted at him. "You don't look old enough for that."

He grinned at her. "Looks aren't everything, my dear," he said, addressing her as if she were a teenager. To him, she might as well be.

She nodded slowly. "All right. Then let's discuss the particulars. Standard compensation is eight thousand galleons per year*, plus insurance with St Mungo's Hospital, and room and board during the school year. There is a fund for books and supplies that every teacher has access to, but Potions does tend to get priority due to being a supply-intensive subject." She moved back to the desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a roll of parchment and a Dict-A-Quill. "Let's put this to parchment, shall we?" She tapped the quill with her wand. "Contract For Employment as Professor of Advanced Magical History and Theory, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall."

The Doctor took out his own wand, a twelve-inch branch given by a sentient tree of Androzani with a thin filament of TARDIS coral as its core. Harry had helped him to build it during their training time and set him his own lessons in magic as vengeance. The wood was purple and twisted into a loose spiral. "Doctor Ian Chesterton, Professor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Harry Potter was no longer human, and that fact affected his friends in different ways. Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ginny and Hermione were all completely at ease, though worried for what that meant for him. Sirius felt guilty, but Harry was quite obviously at peace with his decision, so he sucked it up and tried to be happy for him instead. Ron took a few minutes, but once he realized that Harry was still himself, just with a longer life line, he got over it. Arthur was fairly easy going, like most of his sons, and Remus just had to get used to the scent and catalogue it as being Harry.

It was Molly Weasley who had a problem. She cared for him as if he were one of her own children, and without asking anyone in authority, he'd willingly submitted to a procedure that changed his very species! "Of all the irresponsible-!"

"Mrs. Weasley. I was not being irresponsible. I didn't do it because I thought it would be cool or something. This change will ensure that I live, even if he kills me. I did not make a snap judgment. I got advice and took the time to think it over. A day is coming when I will out-live all of you, and honestly the thought of that day, when I'm left alone, scares the crap out of me. But I will live, I will keep you all safe for the time you have, and I will ensure that none of you are ever, ever forgotten."

"You're just a child, and it's not your job to keep anyone safe!"

"I am not a child," Harry said softly. "I did what was necessary after careful consideration, and it was done only after I was emancipated. I am extremely young. You have no idea how young sixteen is to a Time Lord. But I am an adult within this culture, and I made this decision as an adult. I care for you, Mrs. Weasley, and I respect you. I hope that one day you'll be able to accept this, but I'm sorry; I don't require it."

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment or two, then Arthur placed one of his hands on hers, rubbing his thumb along her index finger. She quieted, and just looked down at her lap.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Hermione asked, "You said sixteen. You've been gone for a year?"

He nodded at her, allowing himself to be diverted from Mrs. Weasley. "About that, yes. I know, I don't look a year older, but that's because my aging has already been slowed. I took that year to learn. The Doctor caught me up in Muggle education, and taught me about my own physiology, the ethics of telepathy, the Laws of Time. I spent a month learning Kung Fu, and a month learning Warushinto on Venus about five million years ago. And now I'm back to finish my magical education and complete the paradox that this prophesy caused."

Hermione would have asked another question, but several owls winged their way through the open kitchen window, all bearing envelopes from Hogwarts. Contained within were their supply lists for the year, along with a notice in all but Ginny's letter. It read:

 _"All fifth and seventh year students will be required to take a new course; Advanced Magical History and Theory. This class will help these students to revise for their OWL or NEWT exams, and will focus on the detailed practical and intellectual knowledge required by these exams. Failure to complete this course will mean exclusion from the exam and entrance into a remedial year of schooling. These examinations have a great bearing on your future employment, and Hogwarts wants you to succeed outside of her halls."_

The list of school books included three that were completely unexpected. One was Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard, another was The History of Earth: From 10,0000 BCE to Present, by Doctor Ian Chesterton, and the last was How the Universe Works, also by Doctor Ian Chesterton. Harry grinned widely. The Doctor had told him the names of his first two human companions. He knew that meant he would be teaching the new class, that he'd gotten Professor McGonagall to agree to it and hire him on.

Fred said, "Well, the one by Slinkhard is probably from the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

George concluded, "Which means the other two books are from the new class."

"That's the Doctor," Harry informed them. That caused a bit of an uproar, and he waited for it to die down. "Yeah. He told me he was going to try this because we knew the Minister was going to plant someone at Hogwarts and he wanted me to have backup."

"So," Mrs. Weasley said, "This alien is the same species as you?"

"Yes," Harry answered her cautiously, wary of her reaction.

She was looking at Ron's letter, reading it. "He taught you Muggle things. How is he, as a teacher?"

"Fantastic!" She looked at him in surprise. "I mean, yes I don't have to sleep much anymore, and my retention is off the charts, but he got me up to a Bachelor's degree in nine months!"

"What's a Bachelor's degree?"

He chuckled. "So, Muggles typically have several levels of schooling; primary, secondary, and collegiate. Then after college, they can choose to move on to a Master's or Doctorate degree. Primary school is what a student attends before Hogwarts. Secondary is like Hogwarts, but is one year longer in the Muggle world. And then your first level college degree is a Bachelor's degree. Typically you can achieve that in three years. It's an entry-level professional education." He shrugged. "I could have done more, but I wanted to take the two months of martial arts for self-defense purposes."

Hermione's eyes were bugging out, of course. But Harry said, "He won't push any of you as hard as he did me, and he did have just the one student at the time."

Mrs. Weasley said, "Still, that's impressive." She nodded to herself.

Arthur said, "And I've heard the scuttlebutt around the office that the Minister put one of his top aides into Hogwarts to make sure he wouldn't be threatened by the school. Imagine, being threatened by a school!"

"Threatened enough to sic Dementors on Harry?" Hermione stated. "Only they got his cousin instead because his TARDIS shielded him somehow, and they were starving."

Harry beamed at her. "Very good, Hermione!" Then he sobered. "And you're all right. The Minister doesn't want to believe that Voldemort has returned. So instead, he believes I'm making a power play. People love to make assumptions about me, especially when it comes to the desire for fame or glory, and the very thought that Voldemort could be back freezes his soul, so he runs away from it." He shook his head. "Even when I was human, I never understood how people could become so stupid in the face of fear."

Ron said, "So what are we going to do, Harry?"

He shrugged. "The only things we can do, I guess. Keep your eyes open, block her if she attempts to harm anyone, maybe get her angry enough to admit something in front of witnesses that have a legal right to do something about her."

"What's her name?" asked Fred.

"And is she going to be the Defense Professor?" George finished.

"She is, and her name is Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. And if it wasn't for being appointed directly by Fudge, she wouldn't have qualified for the position, so I don't expect we'll learn much from her. Still, the Doctor's class will help us all to avoid that particular problem." He shook his head again, at a loss. "I don't know. We'll just have to play it by ear."

"That's your plan?" That was Bill.

But Harry chuckled. "No plan survives first contact with the enemy. You've got to be flexible."

Arthur cut off the conversation. "And on that note, we need to make a run on Diagon Alley and get the school supplies for the year. Will you be joining us, Harry?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Let me just load the dishwasher and we'll be on our way!"

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Arthur almost called the whole trip off just so he could watch the dishwasher, but the notices had come very late, and Harry promised to show it to him over Christmas break. It was already the thirty-first of August, and every student at Hogwarts had received their letters at the same time, so Diagon Alley was going to be utterly packed. They needed to get started.

Hermione had been made female fifth year Prefect for Gryffindor and Harry had been named the male one. When he thought about the extra duties that would entail, along with the extra coursework that the teachers would be giving them and Quidditch besides; well he was glad he didn't need as much sleep as he used to. Academically, the year would probably be simple, so long as he kept his Muggle knowledge out of it. But there were already a lot of irons in the fire here, and he didn't doubt others would be added along the way.

Harry had also already bought some of his supplies, namely everything that wouldn't have changed for his grade level from one year to the next. Last year's fifth-year students were using the same Book of Spells as this year's would be, etcetera. He'd also bought his robes, not wanting it to seem unusual that he hadn't, though he could have transfigured them or gotten something out of the TARDIS wardrobe. The only things he needed were the three new books and a couple of boxes of owl treats.

Harry didn't need to go to Gringott's to his vault, but he did want to check on the state of his investments, so he went up the Alley with them. That was when he spotted the Doctor, reading the ancient warning of the goblins against thieves. "Hello, Doctor."

The other Time Lord turned around. "Ah! Hello there, Harry! I was just making sure that the book stores had enough copies of the two books for my class, and I thought I'd check out Gringott's while I was about. You gave them such glowing reviews, after all."

Harry grinned and rolled his eyes. "Oh, like you're not trying to find out if they're aliens."

"Well, they do seem to look a bit like Denebians, and they're just as obsessed with precious metals."

"Even if they are, it's not an invasion; it's a colonization, and you have no business getting in their way."

"Why would it be a colonization?"

"Because they've been here for thousands of years, and they have homes and families, and they're integral to the economy."

The Doctor pursed his lips at his student. "Fine." Then he brightened. "Still, I need to set up an account for my earnings as a professor to go into, and you need to introduce me to the nice gawking gingers behind you."

Harry straightened. "Right! Doctor, these are Arthur and Molly Weasley, parents to four of the friends you met the same night you met me. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, this is the Doctor, soon to be known as Professor Chesterton." He glanced at his watch. "Now, I actually have an appointment with Master Ironclaw, so if you'll please excuse me?" And with that, Harry turned and went into the bank on his own, leaving the Doctor to face the Weasley matriarch on his own. He smirked. The Doctor could handle this by himself.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

That night, Harry showed the adult Weasleys his TARDIS, specifically the weapons storage room, so they'd understand just how much security was placed on those weapons. He also moved his TARDIS to the school, parking her just across from Myrtle's bathroom because it was a low-traffic area. He noticed that she didn't change shape, keeping the look of the red phone box. He smiled, deciding that if she liked it, then he liked it, too. The Doctor took him back to his house, as he'd be coming to King's Cross Station in the morning with the Weasleys.

After doing all of that, and showing Arthur the dishwasher, he went back to Sirius's house with them that night, thinking about what was going to happen over the next year. Given his increased mental ability, the academics would be a breeze, and he'd decided that he wouldn't let anyone's opinions matter to him any more, so he should be all right in the social department. He'd come to terms with the fact that the wizarding world was a very fickle society, willingly believing anything they read over anyone else's word, and he determined not to allow any of that to get under his skin this year. Some of the meditation techniques he'd learned would help him with that, as well.

Two of the teachers at the school would present him with problems, namely Albus Dumbledore in Transfiguration, and Delores Umbridge in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Dumbledore would be angry as a wasp's nest at him, and Umbridge would be trying to discredit him. Really, the only thing he had to figure out was how Voldemort was going to try and kill him this year, and what his plans were. He already knew the creature (for he refused to call him human) was laying low, because there had been no extraordinary loss of life in the Muggle world. That would have ended up in the news even if the cause did not. Sirius thought he was trying to get his hands on the physical copy of the prophesy that linked them.

Meanwhile a deliberately obtuse and paranoid Ministry of Magic and the wizarding media would do half his work for him. But Harry was not going to be held prisoner by the fears of others anymore. He could have left the wizards to their own devices, just left Earth and gone traveling. But self-fulfilling prophesy aside, he didn't want to abandon his friends to either Voldemort or an unfriendly government that they'd have to live under.

One thing was certain; it was going to be an interesting year. And with that thought, he smiled and turned over in his bed to sleep for a couple of hours before helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. He wanted to be well rested for the train ride.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

 _I want to thank everyone for your reviews. This is the last chapter I can post on this one before I have to slow down for writing. Please remember to review, and let me know if I've really screwed anything up. That said, flames don't help anyone, and I ignore them, so if you don't like the story, just do us all a favor and try reading something else._


	6. Luna Lovegood

**Chapter 6: Back To School**

The next morning was a whirlwind of chaos. Fred and George, reveling in the fact that they were old enough to use their wands outside of school, were levitating their trunks in front of them so they didn't have to carry them, and knocked Ginny down two flights of stairs. Molly went off on them, setting off the portrait of Mrs. Black, who uttered at the top of her lungs the most vile pure-blood bigotry. Harry helped Ginny up and went to the portrait, glaring at her. Then he grinned and aimed at the wall with his wand and said, "Sectum quadratus." A neat square of blue light erupted from his wand and cut through the wall around the portrait.

She sneered at him. "You can't remove me, boy!"

But his face did not fall. "I'm not removing you. I'm removing the wall." And with that he took hold of the frame and pulled. The whole section came loose, and Harry set her leaning up against the bottom half of the wall as she shrieked indignantly. Then he repaired the wall behind her, filling in first the beams, then the plaster, and finally the wallpaper. "Sirius!" he shouted. "What would you like me to do with your mum's picture?"

Sirius came up the stairs from the kitchen and saw what had been done, and then he grinned. "I've got an idea. Kreacher!"

Harry'd had one meeting with the horrible excuse for a house elf, and he wondered what Sirius might be thinking. He arrived with a pop, much more cleanly than anything Fred or George had attempted since they got their Apparation licenses. "You called, master?" Then under his breath, he said, "Horrible thing he is, bringing such filth into Mistress's house."

"Thant's enough of that, Kreacher. Now listen to me. I want to give this portrait to you, who loved her best. But I can't do that right now, because you have not done your duty by this house. It's filthy, inside and out. Now I don't want you to change the exterior, because it's good camouflage, and anything that's dark magic will need to be taken care of by me or one of the others. But the walls, the ceilings, the carpets and all of the other dirt and grime you should have been taking care of. I want to give this portrait to you, Kreacher. But I can't. You understand?" Kreacher gaped at him.

Harry grinned. It was brilliant, and it was positive reinforcement instead of the abuse that so many house elves were dealt.

Kreacher understood, as well. He looked around the house in shock. But then resolve struck his face, and he snapped his fingers. The elf's magic crawled over every surface, like a gentle golden tide, sparking along the edges and leaving behind pristine and glowing clean items. It took ten minutes, and the house glowed like it must have in its heyday. Fires were lit in all the hearths, sconces and chandeliers, leaving the house beautiful and brightly lit. If Kreacher looked smug, harry thought he deserved it.

Sirius smiled at the elf. "Marvelous job! You have earned this Kreacher, and I hope you enjoy it." And he gave over the covered painting of Walburga Black.

Kreacher smiled a little, his face less smug and more humble. "Master is kind."

"Kreacher," Harry asked, "why did you let it go so long?"

"Kreacher had other orders, and was trying to carry them out. Kreacher got distracted by the young Master's task."

Harry nodded. "Thank you for telling me." As Kreacher happily Disapparated with his prize, Harry looked at Sirius, who was deep in thought. "It couldn't have been you who gave him the task, or he wouldn't have treated you so horribly."

Sirius shook his head. "No, you're right about that. It must have been my little brother, Regulus. I can only guess what it could have been."

"Ask him sometime. Offer to help him if it's something rightly worth doing. He might become a better housemate if you do. He must have loved your brother very much." He sighed. "That worries me, though." He looked around the marvelously clean house, and remembered everything that the elf Dobby had done in his second year. "What could stump a house elf's magic?"

Sirius looked at him with surprise. "What indeed."

While they were dealing with Kreacher, Mrs. Weasley had fixed Ginny up, and a few moments later all of those going to Hogwarts were downstairs and waiting. She said, "Moody wanted to send you with guards, but too many people scattered after Dumbledore was found out."

Harry smiled. "That's all right. I plan to hide myself in a sea of ginger hair." Harry took off his glasses and pocketed them, tapping his wand on the top of his head and glamouring himself. He looked like another Weasley, with blue eyes and ginger hair, and a slightly longer nose. He didn't need the glasses anymore, but though he had bought a new pair of frames that fit his face better, glasses were a part of what people perceived him to be. He didn't want anyone knowing he'd been changed who he hadn't told already.

Sirius changed into Padfoot and followed them. Harry shook his head and cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm on the over-grown pup. That way he could get out and stretch his legs a bit, but he wouldn't be seen by any of the Death Eaters' children on the platform. It couldn't be very fun to be trapped in that house, but there was no need to be foolish about it.

It took them about twenty minutes to walk to King's Cross. Harry didn't put his appearance back until he was on the other side of the barrier, making sure that he did it in such a way that no one noticed the change. A ginger went through the barrier and a brunette came out on the other side. Harry put his trunk with the rest of the baggage, along with Hedwig's magically flattened cage, and released the snowy owl to meet him later at Hogwarts.

Ron and Ginny went to get a cabin while Harry and Hermione went to the Prefects cabin to check in with the Head Boy and Girl. They learned who the other Prefects for their year were and what the patrol schedules would be like, as well as what their duties actually were. Neither was surprised by any of the Prefect choices, or by the attitudes coming from the others; mostly the Slytherins, but Ernie MacMillan was a bit of a snot, as well.

When they left for the cabin where Ron and Ginny had got to, they noticed the distinctive odor of Stinksap and walked in just in time to see Ginny perform a very good _Scourgify_. Harry sat down between her and the other girl in the cabin, a blonde with wispy hair and a dreamy expression. She was reading a magazine titled _The Quibbler_ upside down. He held a hand out to her in greeting. "Hello."

She looked at him, and then took his hand genially. "Hello. You're Harry Potter." It was not a question.

"That's right."

Ginny introduced her. "Harry, Hermione, this is Luna Lovegood. She's a Ravenclaw in her fourth year."

"Pleased to meet you, Luna."

"Likewise, my Lord Harry."

Harry's eyes popped open. That was how the Time Lords addressed each other in Council, as my Lord. "Luna, why'd you call me that?"

"Well, you're Lord Potter, aren't you? Heir of Gryffindor and Peverell?"

Ah. She was using his human title. Well, time to nip that in the bud. "I might be those things, but I've never been called by them. Really, I'm just Harry."

She smiled. "No one's just anything. We're all made up of many parts."

"Very true," he said, "but I'd much rather be known for what I've done in truth, not what happened when I was an infant or by something I inherited. Harry is a friend or brother, not a fancy nobleman or a savior."

"I'd like very much to be numbered among your friends. I think such people must be terribly interesting."

"Are you sure you want to be identified with me, what with the Ministry and the _Daily Prophet_?"

She smiled at him again. "I don't read that paper. Why would I when my father edits the best paper in Britain?" She handed him her copy of the _Quibbler_. The magazine was full of fanciful tales, but none of them attacked him or derided him like the _Prophet_ did. He laughed softly at the one that fancied Sirius a famous musician, and tapped his chin thoughtfully about the idea of Fudge trying to take over the bank. Not that the goblins wouldn't have him beheaded and his remains displayed as a warning, but it was something to think about. There really was no end to the man's ambitions, and that was why he was attacking Harry. He thought he shared them.

"How much is a subscription, Luna?"

"A Sickle a month. I could get that set up for you."

"I'd like that, thanks."

Just then Malfoy decided to stick his nose into their business. "I can't believe they made you a Prefect, Potter."

Ron would have snapped something nasty, but Harry just chuckled at him. "Honestly, neither can I. A pleasant surprise, I assure you. Still, I'll do my best to deserve the honor, as I'm sure you will."

Not left with any openings to be a prat, Malfoy just sneered and left the cabin. Hermione smiled at Harry. "That was perfect!"

"How come he just left like that?" asked Ron, confused. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Because I didn't give him an excuse, Ron. I was polite, even agreeing with him, but still made it plain that I won't be backing down from him. Malfoy's not stupid, unlike his lackeys, and I reminded him that we're still equals in the school. He won't be able to abuse his power against me, or anyone I'm close to, without consequences."

Luna said in a singsong voice, "Wit without measure is man's greatest treasure."

"But wit less understanding is a cask without a banding."

Luna absolutely screamed with laughter. It was quite shocking, but Harry just grinned, realizing the girl was just nervous, not making fun of them.

Ginny asked Neville, "So what plants other than your mimbletonia do you care for at home?" That led to a discussion on herbology that Harry didn't know enough about to follow, mostly because it was a subject he wasn't interested in. Ron wanted to talk about Quidditch, and Harry told him he ought to try out for the team this year. Then Hermione started nagging on Ron about his study habits and Ginny talked to Luna about her classes and Neville asked Harry about his summer. It wasn't a long conversation because of the need for secrecy about so many things, but he was able to get Neville talking about his garden again, and let his thoughts drift to the coming school year without losing the thread of the conversation.

Soon they all stopped to pull on their robes, Harry conjuring a curtain across the cabin so that the girls could have privacy from the boys and vice versa, and then they were arriving at Hogsmede Station.

The first thing Harry noticed upon exiting the train was the absence of Hagrid. Instead, Professor Grubbly-Plank was there to gather the first-year students. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, both noticing the absence. Then they all went to grab a carriage to go to the school, and Harry caught his first glimpse of a thestral.

If he had had to give them a classification, he supposed he would have called them horses, though there was something reptilian about them, too. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither—vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister, but Harry knew better than to judge on looks alone. They would not be permitted to pull the carriages, as they must have for years, if they were dangerous to the children.

Harry held a hand out to the thestral on the left-hand side of the yoke, and he nuzzled it. Encouraged, the young Time Lord ran a hand down the thin-but-powerful neck, and across the arm of the near wing. "I wonder what the Doctor thought about you, beastie."

Hermione was watching him strangely, and he grinned. "Let me guess; you can't see them?"

"There's nothing there."

"Hermione, just because you can't see something doesn't mean it isn't there. They're called thestrals. I couldn't see them before this year, either. You have to have a conscious realization of mortality before it's possible for you to see one, generally by having seen death. I saw Cedric killed, so I can see them now."

"I can see them, too," said Luna.

Harry smiled kindly at her. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "It's all right. I was nine, so it's been quite some time ago."

He nodded, and they all got into the coach to be taken up to the school. He asked Luna, "Have you ever written anything for your father's paper?"

"Not yet," she said pleasantly. "I am planning to take an expedition next summer to search for the elusive crumple-horned snorkack, and to write up the search and discovery."

"And what sort of animal is that?"

"Legends say it has a single horn, much like that of an erumpent, but not so explosive in nature. It certainly does not have wings, but is furred and may be basically porcine in general body type. They're native to Sweden and may range even further north in the summer."

"Interesting. What magical properties would they have?"

"No one really knows, as they're rarely seen, and have never been captured."

Harry smiled at her again. "Then good luck in your search. It should prove a fascinating read when you write that up."

She smiled brightly at him. "Thank you, Harry. Most people assume I'm making things up when I talk about such creatures, but then you have reason to believe in the strange and unusual, don't you?"

He gave her a grin. "Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime."

When they reached the Great Hall, Luna went to sit at the Ravenclaw table, and Harry noticed that she sat alone. Ginny went to join her dorm-mates at the Gryffindor table, and he and the other three sat together between Parvati and Sir Nicholas. Harry looked up at the faculty table, noting Hagrid's absence, and the presence of both the Doctor and a rotund woman wearing a horrible pink cardigan, and he recognized her as Dolores Umbridge. He also saw Professor Dumbledore, but he was seated near the end of the table, not in the middle. He looked all right, but sad, and perhaps a little contrite. He nodded to himself. Good. If he was going to maintain that attitude this year, they'd get along just fine.

The Sorting Hat was placed on the stool this year by Professor Flitwick, and it was he who went to get the first year students and have them sorted, a fact that, it was quickly apparent, the Hat itself disagreed with. It sang a song of House unity, despairing of the division it was required to mete out. Privately, Harry agreed, and he wondered what he would be able to do to bridge the gaps. Well, making friends with Luna would help in that direction. But what about Hufflepuff? And even Slytherin? He'd have to do some thinking on those.

Once everyone had eaten, Professor McGonagall got the hall's attention by tapping on her crystal goblet with her fork, the pure tone cutting through all of the conversations at the various tables. she stood and said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. I'm certain that by now those of you who have been here before will have noticed several changes. First, Professor Hagrid has not left us, but is currently traveling and will return to us sometime mid-year. Second, Professor Dumbledore, who has served this school as its Headmaster for many years, has retired from that position, returning to his former duties as the instructor for Transfiguration, while I have been promoted to the headship, and since in that position I have authority over all the houses, I have appointed Charity Burbage, Professor for Muggle Studies, to be the Head of Gryffindor House. I know that all of you Gryffindors will show her the same respect you showed me when I was Head of that House." She pinned Fred and George with a look, and they grinned at her.

"We are also joined this year by two new Professors. Please join me in welcoming our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dolores Umbridge, and the teacher for Advanced Magical History and Theory, Doctor Ian Chesterton. Doctor Chesterton has asked me to pass on two things; first, that his door will be open to any student needing help in any subject during his office hours, and second, that he would prefer to be addressed as the Doctor rather than the Professor.

"Students will please note that the forest on the grounds is called Forbidden for a reason, and anyone entering it without express direction from a teacher will have detention with me. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, wishes to remind students that magic in the corridors is prohibited, and that a list of items which are post scribed can be found on the door to his office. Finally, tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will be held on the first Friday of next month. Students wishing to try out will need to sign up on the notice posted in each Common Room. Now, as we've all been well fed, it's time we were-"

"Hem, hem," interrupted Professor Umbridge. She stood, making it plain she had a speech prepared. No other Professor had ever done such a thing, and it showed she had a lot of gall. Harry listened intently to the incredibly dull diatribe which followed, picking out the nuggets amongst the dross. It was clear that the woman wouldn't just be changing the Defense class, but that she, and therefore the Minister, were aiming at the entire school and the way it was run. That dig about "progress for progress's sake must be discouraged" was definitely aimed at the Doctor's class. He momentarily locked eyes with his elder, who nodded imperceptibly.

Finally, they were dismissed to their Houses for the evening, and he and Hermione led the first year students to the tower. They warned the students about the changing staircases, showed them to their dorms, welcomed them again to Gryffindor, and warned them about things like points and getting lost.

One child, a little blonde girl with pigtails, looked up at Harry and said, "Are you _really_ Harry Potter?" He looked at Hermione, who was trying not to laugh at his discomfort. But the girl was so sincere, Harry sighed and knelt down to her level.

"That is my name, but I want you to think about what that really means. Nothing. I'm just a person, just like everybody else. I go to school, do my work, get in trouble, and play Quidditch just like any other boy my age. The only reason you know my name is because of something my Mum did for me when I was very small, because she loved me very much. Does that make sense?" After a moment thinking about it, the little girl nodded firmly. "Good. Now everyone get on to bed. There's plenty of time to explore the castle over the weekend before you have to be in class."

Once the firsties had shuffled off to their respective dorms, Hermione let go of her restraint. He rolled his eyes and tossed a pillow at her head. She caught it, and still chuckling a bit, she said, "Really, you handled that very well."

"I agree," came a voice from behind them. It was Professor Burbage. "You didn't tell her off, but you didn't take advantage of her admiration, either. Ten points to you, Mr. Potter. Now everyone listen up. I've been asked to warn you about Professor Umbridge. If you haven't already noticed, she's here because the Ministry is sticking its nose into Hogwarts business. The Headmistress expects her, at some point, to attempt to damage your education, and in so doing prevent any of you from becoming a threat. That is why the remit of the Doctor's class includes helping in any subject and at any grade level.

"Believe me, you're going to need that help. Do not argue with her, or directly contradict her, especially about You-Know-Who." Here she looked directly at Harry. "Eventually, he will show himself and we'll be vindicated. But until that happens, don't give them an excuse. Now, if anyone needs me, my office is right next door, and I'll be there until curfew. Good evening, Gryffindors."

Seamus looked at Harry. "Me Mum nearly didn't let me come back after she read all that stuff the _Daily Prophet's_ been printing." He shook his head. "I had to threaten to run off and come anyway to get her to back off. Is it true? Is he really back?"

Harry nodded. "It's true, all of it. But Professor Burbage is right. I can't go mouthing off. I've got to seem above it all, get her and the Minister to be the ones who look foolish." He snorted a humorless laugh. "You know, when I was Sorted, the Hat gave me a choice, said I'd do well in Slytherin. I guess it's time to use that sneaky part of me."

Slowly, Seamus nodded. "Right. Well, I'll help you where I can, mate."

Harry smiled at him. "Thanks."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

The next morning saw Harry getting up early and exiting the portrait hole to head for the corridor in front of Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor. That was where his TARDIS was parked. He wasn't surprised to see the blue box standing next to the red box, for all the world looking to him like two middle-aged sisters gossiping to each other. He felt a poke in his mind about the description of his TARDIS as middle-aged, though, and grinned at her. "Nothing wrong with being middle-aged, love."

From behind him, the Doctor said, "Ah, but no woman likes to be reminded of her age, and TARDISes are no different. How's being a Prefect working out for you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ruddy boring. Policing other kids is not my idea of a good time. Still, it gives me a measure of mobility I wouldn't have had otherwise." He took his key out from under his shirt and opened his TARDIS's door. "Coming in?"

"Of course. How's your regulator coming along?"

"It just had a couple of metal spurs that needed filing off. They were causing the short circuit. I'm glad it was simple, though. I've still got a lot to learn about my lady here." He looked the Doctor in the eye. "What do you think of Madame Umbridge, or have you had the pleasure yet?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, not yet, though that little speech of hers was very telling. I'm sure you're right about her plans to sabotage things, and I doubt she'll confine her efforts to the students. The Minister is a paranoid little man, and I can say with absolute certainty he's not going to like what I'll be teaching."

"Good." Harry grinned. "That means it'll actually be useful. I read both books last night. Hermione is very jealous of my new academic abilities, by the way. They're both better than any other text for this school."

"Well I should hope so," he said. "Those things are mostly quite awful."

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

The first day of classes was quite revealing. The first thing on most of the teachers' minds was the OWL exams that would be taken at the end of the year. Professor Snape tried to throw them off first thing with the Draught of Peace. Professor Trelawney predicted most of the students would flunk the exam in her class because they didn't have the sight. She took one look at Harry, though, and her already huge eyes bugged out of her head. He winked at her and held a finger to his lips to hush her. She recovered by again predicting his death.

The Doctor's first class, which was Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years went down in Hogwarts history. Walking into the classroom, which ironically had once held the Mirror of Erised, the first thing the students saw was that all of the desks were arranged along three of the walls of the room, just two deep, leaving the middle of the room clear, save for a large wooden box, one meter tall and square, with a circular hole in the very middle of it. At the front of the room was a small desk with a lamp on it and a wall of book shelves containing both books and artifacts of various types. Many were contemporary Muggle technological devices and periodicals, but many more were historical in nature.

Once everyone was seated and the bell rung, the door closed of its own accord and the Doctor jumped from behind his small desk. "Welcome to Advanced Magical History and Theory. I am Doctor Ian Chesterton, but please just call me the Doctor. This class is only for OWL and NEWT level students, and it is meant to fill in any holes you might have while you are preparing for those exams, as well as to give you all a more thorough understanding of how the world actually works beyond the facts and figures of dry, dusty books.

"History is a living thing. I realize it's hard to understand this when it's being taught by a dead person, but it's more than dates and long dead people. History is right now, this minute, being written by the choices that people are making. Not the little choices, like what to wear or what to eat for lunch today, because time pretty much just flows around those choices. They don't affect much. But choices which may seem small, like whether to take one job or another, can cause big changes in the timeline. And, of course, the big events are shaped by those smaller events."

The Doctor walked to the middle of the room and tapped on the box three times. From inside erupted a large full-color hologram. The scene was of a broad, grassy plain. Seven groups of dark brown people had pitched their camp around a huge bonfire, and lots of little campfires were roaring throughout the massive campsite. In the center, near the bonfire, forty-nine men sat, involved in a major discussion. The language was not understandable yet, but Harry recognized the proto-Egyptian designs that were painted on their skin with white charcoal.

"This is the first Meeting. Can anyone tell me what this lot are probably discussing?"

Hermione's hand shot up into the air, which surprised no one. "This is when the tribal wizards started the civilization which became the Old Kingdom of Egypt."

"Very good, Hermione, five points to Gryffindor for the first correct answer of the year. Yes, this is that meeting, but they weren't wizards yet. They _were_ magic users, but at this point they were tribal shamans, and much more deeply connected to nature than wizards today are. They all worship the same deities, and they have come together because there is a famine. You'll notice all the grass around them is dead, despite it being spring. They're looking for something, and they're all deciding, here and now, to cooperate in finding it. Seven of these men are leaders of their tribes, seven are the chief shamans, and the other thirty-five are lower shamans, learning under the chief. Normally, the tribal and shamanic leaders would confer with each other, and come to a decision, which the rest of the shamans and other people would follow. But here we have a different thing happening, as the lower shamans have also been involved. Would anyone care to guess why?"

Harry was surprised to see Malfoy raise his hand. "They're going to have to specialize."

"Exactly! Five points to Slytherin. The shamans are going to have to specialize in specific fields, calling on particular deities, and become masters of those fields, eventually forming the basis for the various priesthoods. And the reason for that is because they are forming a more central government, joining the seven tribes into a single nation, allowing the Egyptians to work together to combat the famine. Now, why do you suppose these fellows are not considered wizards yet? What's different about the way they work and the way you work that makes you a wizard or a witch, and them a shaman?"

No one raised their hand.

"No?" The Doctor grinned and held up his twisted purple wand.

Hermione slapped her hand to her forehead, groaning, "Of course," and several of her fellow Gryffindors chuckled.

"Yes, it is as simple as that. The use of a focusing device is required for all wizard-type magic, and before the invention of the staff focus by three of the men you see here, all of you would have to have access to a deity to use your power with much control. Now wandless magic is possible, so long as you first have access to that wand, because the wand itself, upon choosing its wizard, opens a channel in the wizard's mind which allows them full access to their core. If a magically born person today were to follow the shamanic path, then their deity would have to open that path for them, and could, if provoked, close it."

Neville Longbottom raised his hand. "Yes, Neville?"

"Didn't people continue in the way of the shaman even after this, though?"

"Yes they did, and five more points to Gryffindor for asking intelligent questions." He tapped the box again, and the scene shifted to something more recognizably Egypt, with sand and pyramids, and slaves. "The Hebrew people maintained their loyalty to the God of their ancestors even after moving to Egypt, and therefore, never moved to the wizarding method. The gift was rare among their people, but when it occurred, it was very powerful, because the practitioners, called prophets, judges, and priests, opened themselves completely to the will of their God. If reports are to be believed, He acted _directly_ through his prophets and priests, and sometimes even without them, most spectacularly toward the end of the Old Kingdom*. Does anyone care to take a guess to which event I am referring?"

This time, Lee Jordan's hand shot up. "The Exodus."

"Very good, another five points to Gryffindor. The ten plagues of Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, and the beginning of the Hebrews status as a nation called Israel were all direct actions of deity and those actions were channeled through his chosen prophet, Moses. The wizards of the Pharaoh stood no chance against such a massive force, and Egypt fell into a period of chaos that only ended with the rise of the Middle Kingdom."

Malfoy blurted out, "Are you really spouting that Muggle religious nonsense as _history_?"

The Doctor grinned at him. "I'm not a historian, Mr. Malfoy. I point and laugh at historians and archaeologists. I have original source material for _all_ of the statements in my books, and while I welcome any honest criticism of that work, I _will not_ allow you to do so on the basis of blind bigotry. I'll let you keep your points for now, but consider this your one and only warning. Keep a civil tongue in this class, or I'll see you fail your OWLs. And before you get any ideas about lying to anyone about what occurs here, be aware I'm recording all classes for posterity." He pointed his wand at a small swirling crystal globe located on one of the shelves.

Malfoy looked as though he had swallowed a lemon, but kept his peace.

The Doctor clapped his hands and the hologram, which had been depicting the various plagues of Egypt, closed down. "All right, this is just a sample of what we're going to be looking at in this class. The goal here is to help you all reach an understanding of the true history of the wizarding world, and of how your power actually works, where it comes from, and what the Muggle world has to do with it. Also, if you are having trouble with any magical concept or practice, other than potionmaking, please come to me and I will try to help you. I only exclude potions because I'm pants at them, and I won't therefore intrude on that professor's territory." That got a chuckle from the students. "All right, no homework today for turning in, but I do want you to read the first five chapters of both books so that you'll be prepared for next class."

That class was starkly contrasted against their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Dolores Umbridge. Her agenda was plain and her attitude despicable. She intended to cause every student to flunk their OWLs unless they toed the Ministry line. Harry was hard-put to keep both himself and Hermione quiet. The Ministry chose to believe that Voldemort had not returned, and she preached it as gospel. Once they were outside the class, as it was their last one of the day, the entire class of fifth-year Gryffindors went back to the Doctor's classroom, met there by the seventh-years and both classes of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

The Doctor got them all to be quiet first, then asked Harry to explain the situation. "She's set us this book. I know you read it already, and basically it's a pre-Hogwarts level book, a basic introduction tossed with a lot of Ministry propaganda about not using defensive or offensive magic. Then she says to read the first chapter, there will be no need to talk. That's it. That's what she thinks a defense class should be. We're all going to fail the exams unless we do something outside her class, and if we do, she'll come down on this school like the ton of bricks she resembles." Telepathically, he added, _"To say nothing of actually preparing these kids to stand against Voldemort."_

"And why are none of the Slytherins in here? Don't they want to pass their exams as well?"

Cho Chang of Ravenclaw answered him. "Doctor, by the way you talk, you're either a Muggleborn or a sympathizer. They'd never come to you. But the smarter ones _will_ go to Professor Snape. He'll make sure they get the tutoring they need."

"All right, then, at least we know they'll be all right. I'm going to have to get with Professor McGonagall before I can plan this out, but I'll let you all know something by the next class. We won't let you fail just because she's more interested in politics than teaching. You lot go on about your business. Those of you who are Prefects, stay behind a moment, please."

Once the rest of the students had left, the Doctor cast an Imperturbable Charm on the classroom door. "All right, quickly. I've heard rumors that Umbridge is in possession of several blood quills. If you hear of anyone having detention with that toad, come to me, your Head of House, or the Headmistress immediately. We've got to catch her using them before we'll be able to do anything about it, and so far we don't even have an accusation. As Prefects, _you_ are the students' first line of defense." Then he canceled the charm on the door. "Thank you all, you're dismissed."

Harry and Hermione were the last ones to go, and the Doctor held them back. "I know you've got to patrol tonight. Try to end up around Myrtle's bathroom at some point." Harry grinned at him. "Yes, I know, but I want to show you something. Honestly, the way she keeps flirting, I'm going to have to find a way to bottle her!"

That set them both chuckling as they left the classroom.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~ ~o~

 _Note about Exodus: I am aware that this flaunts the current accepted timeline, if one even allows that the Exodus occurred, but I recently ran across a documentary with an alternate theory, and I used their timeline because it shows that the Doctor knows something normal people don't. The documentary is titled Patterns of Evidence: Exodus, if you want to check it out. Very interesting, and narrated by the very yummy voice of Kevin Sorbo!_


End file.
